


Words

by voguethranduil



Series: dirty pretty things [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mutual Pining, Not so happy ending, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn with Feelings, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Civil War (Marvel), Slow Burn, Smut, angst AND blowjobs!!!, fight me, idk how long this will be tbh, probably not going to follow anything canon in later chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-11 00:45:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5607271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voguethranduil/pseuds/voguethranduil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Words are powerful things. They can break<br/>hearts and make panties wet.<br/>-Michael Faudet</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello again! I've had this draft sitting in my computer for months, so I said fuck it and decided to publish it. sorry if there are any mistakes, I will be going back and editing it! enjoy! X

The first time you saw him, you really didn’t think much of him. It was your first day interning at the Smithsonian, and your main priority was to help guests and explain exhibits to them, not to be wary of strange men.

Being straight out of college with a major in American history, you requested on your application to be assigned to the brand new Captain America exhibit. You had a lot of knowledge of WW2, and even wrote your final essay on how Captain America became a symbol of hope for the people - on the field, and back home. So naturally, you really wanted to work that area.

The whole morning started with Daniel, the curator, showing you around the building and how to approach guests; and explain exhibits to people. It was fairly easy, to say at the least. So Daniel assigned you to work with Olivia, another intern who has been working there for a couple months.

So here you were now, explaining to a group of kids how Steve Rogers became a super solider. Several of the little boys wore Cap shirts, and the little girls carried plastic shields. Kids like these are the ones that make your job even more fun.

“Alright, the next exhibit is to your right,” You announced, walking the kids over to the next exhibit. “And can anyone tell me who this man is?” You questioned, pointing to the vintage picture.

“Ooo! That’s Bucky Barnes, he was Caps best friend!” A kid shouted.

Smiling, you replied, “Good job, that’s exactly who he is!”

Olivia took over, giving them an explanation of Bucky. Your focus immediately landed on a man who behind the group of kids, who looked very out of place. He wore a baseball cap, and his clothes looked like they’d been thrown in dirt, and his hands were shoved in his pockets. His long hair was tucked behind his ears, and he had a lot of scruff - which contrasted with his younger looks; making him look older than he probably was. The man was studying the Bucky Barnes exhibit, with calculating eyes. For some reason, he sent a shiver down your body.

Shaking your head, you tore your gaze away from him and focused on Olivia, who was now leading the kids to the Howling Commandos exhibit. Walking behind the group of kids, you looked over shoulder at the man. He had shuffled closer towards the exhibit, and continued to stare at the picture and biography.

That was the first time you saw him.

* * *

 The second time you saw him, he was still wearing the same outfit, but the bags under his eyes were more apparent. You didn’t notice it the first time.

It was a slow day, being a Monday. Monday’s usually consist of old people with their grandkids. But he was back and returned to the Bucky Barnes exhibit. Again, he just stood there and stared at the biography.

“Hey, is he a regular?” You asked Olivia, as the two of you went through some paperwork.

She glanced over at him, and looked back at you.

“Yep, he’s been coming here everyday for the past month. He always goes to that exhibit.” She explained, as she organized the papers.

“Do you know his name?” You asked, still occasionally glancing over at him.

“Nope, but I think he’s homeless. Daniel said he’s seen him sleeping on the benches outside. It’s quite sad, to be honest.”

You frowned, and felt some sort of protection grow inside of you for him. When you were younger, your parents were big into charities and helping out less fortunate people. You always tagged along with them to soup kitchens and clothing drives. Helping people was always a passion you had, and it was something that’s probably never going to go away.

“I’m gonna go talk to him,” You announced, straightening out your blazer. Before you could walk over there, Olivia lightly grabbed forearm.

“Hey, be careful. He seems shady enough, just- just be careful.”

You gave her a reassuring smile before agreeing, and made your way to the man. You approached the man, and cleared your throat, before saying,

“Bucky Barnes, Captain America’s right hand man,”

His stare turned to you, and you made eye contact with him for the first time. His eyes were blue and there was a hint of confusion in them. Your heart skipped a beat, but kept going.

“He was a sniper, in the Howling Commandos. Most talented one in the 107th, might I add. Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were the dream team, back during the war. He was the only Howling Commando to give his life for the war. Besides Cap, but that’s a whole different story.” You chuckled.

The man remained quiet, hands still shoved in his pockets. But his eyes returned from confusing, to calculating. Feeling the awkward tension between the two of you, you wiped your clammy hands on your blazer.

“Sorry, I’m a history major and specialize in WW2.” You gave him your name and held out your hand, for him to shake. He just looked down at your hand, and back up at you. Retreating your hand, you crossed them behind your back.

“I see you a lot here, and I figured I could introduce myself,” you said, nicely. “If you have any questions about the exhibit, I’ll be over at that podium over there,” you added, pointing to where Olivia stood. “It was nice meeting you!”

As you begun to walk away, he spoke for the first time.

“My name is James.”

You turned around, and smiled at him. He looked down at his feet, and looked back up at you, eyes peeking out from under his cap.

“I’ll see you around, James.”

That was the second time you saw him.

* * *

Bucky Barnes had a routine.

Every morning, Bucky would wake up around sunrise. He’d scrounge up a couple dollars in coins he found on the street and get a cup of the crappy street coffee, near the Smithsonian. Then, he’d walk to the public bathrooms and wash his face up a bit. If he was lucky, he’d find more money in the streets and buy a muffin. If he wasn’t so lucky, he’d swipe some food from a stand. He was good, and never got caught. Then, he’d waste the day away at the Smithsonian; trying to piece the memories back together.

Ever since the Triskelion incident, and his encounters with Steve Rogers, he’d gone M.I.A. He slept on benches and broke into evicted homes when it got too cold. Bucky would often swipe some vodka from a convenience store, and spend his nights drinking the pain away. His serum - wasn’t perfect, like Steve’s. He could get drunk, if he tried _really really_ hard. And oh, how he wishes he could rip the goddamn arm off of his body. It was a reminder to Bucky of what he’s done, and the people he’s killed. There were nights when he’d get drunk and his human hand would be bloody from trying to rip the fucking thing off. But no matter what he did, he always ended up the same: broken, drunk, and angry at himself and the world around him.

At the Smithsonian, he’d always find himself in front of his own memorial. They called him a war hero. Only if they _knew._ If the people knew what he did - after he fell, he’d be labeled as a monster.

Rarely, did the employees talk to him. They just gave him smile and went about their business, he didn’t blame them. Bucky was grateful that they didn’t talk to him. So, that’s why he was confused when you approached him.

He saw you the previous day, talking with the kids. He noticed that you kept glancing at him, which made him tense. _She could be HYDRA. She could be with Rumlow._ ** _She could be HYDRA._** The way you talked to him though, threw him off.

She was _nice._ She had a pretty smile. And she seemed to know more about Bucky, than even he knew. But he wanted to remain cautious, and he wanted to know if she really was who she said she was.

So maybe, Bucky would let himself get to know her.

_Maybe._


	2. Chapter 2

“I’m clocking out, I’ll see you guys tomorrow!” You waved, to Daniel and Olivia. They both returned the gesture, and you walked out the back. Pulling on your jacket and getting your keys out, you stopped in your tracks when you saw him.

James was hunched over a trashcan, looking inside of it tentatively. This was the first time you saw him with his hands out of his pockets. He was sporting a pair of black gloves.

James looked up at you, when he heard your heels click on the pavement. His jaw clenched, and he stepped back from the trashcan. You knew what his intentions were, and you ached for him.

Luckily, that day, you weren’t hungry during your break. Digging around in your purse, you pulled out a sandwich and chips, and walked towards James. James kept a emotionless look on his face, as you approached him. Holding out the food, the hunger in his face showed. But he didn’t move, and you gestured it towards him again.

“It’s okay. I got caught up in some files, and didn’t have time to eat. _It’s okay.”_ You murmured, noticing the height difference. He was tall and you could tell, even beneath his layers, that he was built.

James sighed, and took the sandwich and chips from you. He shoved them in his backpack, and looked down at you.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, James.”

And with that, you smiled once more and walked past him, towards your car. Bucky watched you pull out of the parking lot, and then sat down on the curb and wolfed down the sandwich and chips. It was the best meal he’d had in a long time.

But Bucky was still suspicious about you. There had to be an ulterior motive. Nobody was _that_ nice. Nobody just came up to him and gave him food, without hesitation.

You were a mystery to him, as he was to you.

* * *

 

After your encounter with James, you started packing extra lunches with you.

It became part of both of your routines. When it was time for your lunch break, you found James and you both sat on the steps of the Smithsonian, and ate together. For the first couple times, you both just sat in a comfortable silence. But after a couple weeks, you gently coaxed words out of him. He was quite often laconic, but he liked listening to you talk. You talked about work, and often gave him random facts about history. Some he knew, some he didn’t. But he found it very comforting to talk to someone who was so _positive_ and _radiant_ and found the bright side in everything.

Today though, Mother Nature was not on your side. It was pouring down rain, so James and you decided to eat together tomorrow. You were swamped with paperwork, and gave James his lunch and your lunch.

Before you could walk back to the staff room, James called out your name.

“I… I managed to scrape up some money. I know a good little diner, not far from here.” He shuffled his feet, as you raised your brow, and smiled.

“James, you don’t have to spend your money on me. It’s no big deal!” You argued, but he just waved his hand in dismissal.

“You spend your money on making me food. S’least I could do.”

“Okay, deal. I’ll meet you out front after my shift’s over, okay?” You replied. And for the first time, you saw his lips form into an actual _smile._ He didn’t show any teeth, it was the kind of smile where he had to bite his lip to _stop_ himself from showing his teeth.

Seeing him smile, actually brought out his looks to you. He _was_ attractive.

Time seemed to slow down, as you actually looked forward to meeting up with him.

“Got any plans after your shift?” Olivia asked.

“I’m actually going out with James.” You replied, checking the time once more.

She huffed, and crossed her arms.

“Are you serious?”

Frowning, you replied,

“Of course not.”

“Okay, I get making him food and everything. But girl, you _don’t_ know him. There’s a reason why he’s homeless, and you never know - he could be a convicted felon, or worse!”

You sighed, and rolled your eyes.

“Olivia, I’ve grown up with people around me like that. My parents dragged me along to so many homeless shelters, and soup kitchens. Those people are the kindest, humble people. Yeah, James may be rough around the edges, but he’s a _good man._ ”

“I’m just telling you to be careful, babe. Did he ever tell you how he ended up living on the streets?” She pressed.

“I’ve tried talking to him about it, but he’s private about it. But it doesn’t matter, he’s my friend.” You exclaimed, as you grabbed your punch card. “I’ve gotta go, anyways. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Olivia got up, and hugged you.

“I swear to god, if you show up missing, I’m telling the cops it was him.”

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Olive. It’s not like I’m dating him.”

* * *

 

James was on time, waiting for you outside. You smiled, and greeted him. James was actually participating in the conversation, as he led you to the diner he was talking about. His voice was steady and calm, and that’s when you realized this was the longest conversation you’ve had with him. When you arrived at the diner, he opened the door for you and led you to a booth. You both ordered burgers and shakes, and just enjoyed being around each other.

“James?” You ask, as you sip on your shake.

He looks up at you, and raises a brow.

“Where did you grow up?” You ask.

He sits back in the booth, and looks up at the ceiling, like he was trying to remember something.

“…Brooklyn.”

Tentatively, you asked,

“How did you end up in DC? If you don’t mind me asking,”

James looked down at his clothed hands, and sighed.

“I’m sorry, if you-“

“Used to be a soldier. Got discharged for an injury.”

You felt your cheeks become flushed, feeling bad for asking. It wasn’t your place to know. After all, a lot of the homeless people in DC were retired Vets.

“Do… do you want to talk about it?”

He sighed, and sat up straight.

“No. I’m sorry.”

Without hesitation, you rested your hand on top of his clothed hand. He tensed, but didn’t pull away.

“Thank you for taking me here, James.”

The corners of his lips curved into a small smile, and he replied,

“You’re welcome.”

The bill was fairly small, and James had enough to cover it. So with that, the two of you walked outside, into the cold evening. You both walked around a nearby park for a while, until clouds starting rolling in.

“I think I’m gonna have to go home, James. Thank you so much for tonight, I had fun!” You exclaimed, tightening your jacket around your body.

“Can I walk you to your car?” He asked, in which you nodded your head.

About halfway to your car, it started to rain _buckets._ You laughed as James threw his jacket over your head, as you both ran to your car. Opening the door, you stopped, and realized that James probably didn’t have anywhere to go tonight. And you couldn’t let him sleep out here, with weather like this.

“Where are you staying tonight?” You questioned, looking up at him.

“Probably gonna stay in this abandoned apartment. I usually stay there when it’s like this.” He shrugged, still keeping the jacket over your head.

“I can’t let you stay out here, when it’s raining this hard,” you argue. “You’ll get sick!”

“Trust me, I’m fine.” James replied.

Your parents had let families stay with you before, when you were younger. And you fully intended on having James stay at your apartment, for just a night. And he was gonna stay, even if you had to drag him in the car yourself.

“I have heating, and I just went grocery shopping. Please?” You persisted, clapping your hands together.

Bucky wanted to say no, because he didn’t want your pity. He figured that buying you dinner would settle it, and he didn’t want to take advantage of her own home.

But staying in a warm place, _with food,_ was an offer he couldn’t refuse. It’s been too long since he’s felt the heat of a fire.

“…Okay.” He said, after a moment of thinking. You grinned, and unlocked the passengers door. He reluctantly got in, and secretly reveled in the feeling of the heater in the car.

 

* * *

 

 

“I would’ve cleaned up a bit, if I knew you were coming,” You told him, as you unlocked your door. Walking in, James actually _scoffed._

“What are you talkin’ bout? This is clean.” He replied, taking in his surroundings.

Your apartment was modest, and very… home-y. There were frames on the walls, with pictures of yourself and others that he didn’t recognize. You gave him a tour, and informed him that he was going to sleep in your room.

“Wait, what?” He asked, confused. Sure, you were pretty, but that would be crossing a line… you probably had a boyfriend, and that wouldn’t turn out good for anyone.

“I _meant_ that I’m sleeping on the couch, and you get the bed. I’ll change the sheets in a sec,” you explained, as you dug around in your closet. James could use a shower, and a fresh change of clothes. Luckily for you, you just broke it off with a short lived boyfriend. He was dumb enough to leave some of his clothes, which looked like they could fit James.

Holding them in your arms, you gestured toward the bathroom, and he followed.

“Help yourself to some clothes and a shower. There’s also a razor and shaving cream over here, if you want,” you started, turning on the faucet. James gave you a confused look at the clothes, and you laughed. “Don’t worry, they’re my ex’s clothes. He won’t care.”

James smiled slightly, and you took your leave, changing the sheets and cleaning up your room a little. Walking in to the kitchen, you thought that the two of you could watch a movie, and eat some snacks. So, you pulled out some DVDs and starting making popcorn, waiting on James.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Bucky stood in front of the mirror, looking back at his reflection. That shower, was the best luxury he’s had in a while. When he was with HYDRA, he was lucky if he even got to take a five minute shower, sometimes even ten if the guard was dragging his feet. His beard has grown out a lot, and he wondered if he would even recognize himself if he shaved. Cautiously picking up the razor, he stared at it. The last time he shaved, was before the Triskelion incident; and even then, they didn’t let him do it himself.

So he huffed, and spread the shaving cream on his face; and did it. After cleaning up the sink, he pulled on a green henley and sweats. Over the time Bucky has gotten to know you, he noted how your perfume smelt. You smelled like vanilla and sometimes flowers, and these clothes smelled of _you._ Bucky, found it oddly comforting. Putting his dirty clothes over his shoulder, he shoved his left hand in his pocket.

He walked in to the kitchen, to the sight of you chopping up strawberries, and a huge bowl of popcorn on the table.

When you looked up at him, you almost dropped the knife in your grip. James looked…. he looked like someone you _knew_. Or at least met. His beard made him look older, but without it, he looked… familiar.

“Uh, you alright?” He asked, placing his clothes over the back of a chair.

“Y-yeah! Sorry, you just look nice.” You quickly said, nervously putting your hands on your hips. _He looks_ ** _so_** _familiar._

James walked over to the popcorn bowl, and ate some popcorn.

“Here, go pick out a movie, and I’m gonna go throw these in the wash.” You said, grabbing his clothes. James nodded, and stepped into the living room.

Shaking off the feeling of deja vu, you started the wash, and returned to James. He was looking at your DVDs, closely. Plopping down on the couch, you threw your legs on the coffee table.

“See anything you wanna watch?” You asked.

James remained quiet for a moment more, before turning and handing you a DVD.

“Fight Club?” You read out loud, with a grin.

“Looks good,” he shrugged, sitting down next to you. You just laughed, and put it in the DVD player.

James was immediately hooked on the movie, and watched closely. It was his first time watching it, he told you, and you loved his reactions to some of the scenes. But you just couldn’t shake off the feeling of his looks. _Why is it even bothering you, this much?! Just ignore it, just ignore it._

Throughout the movie, you had subconsciously moved closer to James. Your side was lightly touching his, and his arm was slung over the back of the couch. Bucky _did_ notice you move closer, but didn’t care. He wanted to feel the heat of your skin radiate on to his cold skin to make him warm. You made him feel like he was safe, like he was _normal._

At the end of the movie, he turned to you, only to find that you were asleep; head falling into his shoulder.

“Kid,” he whispered, using his flesh arm to lightly shake you.

Your eyes fluttered open, and yawned.

“M’sorry, I usually never fall asleep during movies.” You groggily said, sitting up straight.

“It’s alright, I was getting tired anyways.”

_Lie. He wanted to stay there with you._

“C’mon, I’ll set up the bed for you.” You announced, James trailing you as you both walked to your room.

 

* * *

 

 

Once the two of you said your goodnights, Bucky fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. The bed felt like a marshmallow and his skin felt warm under the soft sheets. You had also fell asleep easily, it never really bothered you to sleep on the couch. At around three a.m., Bucky woke in a cold sweat. _Nightmares._ They were a common occurrence these days, and he didn’t particularly like to stick around in one place after a nightmare. He had to walk it off, drink it off, _whatever._

Quietly, he padded down the hall, and noticed that your door was slightly cracked. He could see your cheek smushed against the pillow, hand hanging off the bed, and blankets half off of you. Part of him wanted to wake you up, to just talk - to get the nightmare out of his thoughts. The other part wanted to pick up his things and go, out of your life.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he quietly crept past the door, and approached your bed. With as much delicacy as he could, he lightly moved your arm so that it was on the bed, being careful not to wake you. Bucky then draped the blankets back over your body, and looked down at you.

You were _quite_ the woman. You went out of your way constantly just to be his friend, just because you _wanted to._ Bucky wished he had that much kindness in his heart. And even if he didn’t want to admit it, in the back of his mind, he had actually grown fond of you.

And Bucky was fucking terrified of it.

He was terrified, because it was _him._ He had killed, tortured, and god knows what else to many people. Bucky had real enemies out there, that could kill anyone that helped him run from HYDRA.

_They could kill_ ** _you_** _,_ if they found him. They could kill you, for just being his friend.

On top of all the bullshit and heartache Bucky had to suffer throughout his life, he would not be able to live with himself to know that another innocent person was hurt, because of him.

Bucky Barnes decided that he had to leave and run as fast as he could, out of your life.

With that, he knelt down beside your sleeping body, and with his flesh hand, lightly cupped your cheek.

In another universe, maybe he could have been your friend, or something _more_. But he wasn’t willing to be that, in this world.

His world is filled with death and tragedy and he would go down _kicking_ _and_ _screaming_.

* * *

 

As Bucky threw his now clean clothes in his bag, his heart nearly stopped when he heard your sleep filled voice.

“James?”

He turned, and saw you standing behind the couch; hair all messy, wearing your sweatshirt and leggings.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“I…” he started, having trouble finding the right words. Running his hand through his hair, he sighed. “I can’t stay here.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, in confusion.

“What do you-“ you started, but he cut you off.

“I mean, I just _can’t_. I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me the past couple weeks, and I will never forget it. But I just… I _just can’t stay here.”_

Bucky slung his backpack over his shoulders, and couldn’t even bare to look at you in the eyes. He walked past you, as you followed.

“James, it’s honestly no problem! You don’t have to fuss over-“

Bucky turned around quickly, and sternly said,

“STOP.”

Due to the height difference, he was currently towering over you. But you sure as hell weren’t going to let him be like this towards you, and you were never one to let someone walk out of your life without an actual reason.

“You know what? No. I’m not going to stop. You know why? Because I actually care about you, James, as hard as it might be to believe.” You retorted back, crossing your arms.

“Cut the shit, how could you care about someone you barely know? Look, I _really_ would stay here, but I just can’t.” He shot back.

You let out a fake laugh, and replied,

“If you want to leave, fine. Would you just give me a decent reason as to why? ‘ _I just can’t,’_ isn’t going to cut it, James.”

“You want a reason? I’ll give you a reason.” James spat back, dropping his backpack.

Tearing off his jacket, James angrily threw his gloves to the ground, the gleam of silver being revealed by the dim lighting. Your heart race increased, as he lifted his shirt off his chest.

You tried not to back away from him, as the shine of his left metal arm gleamed. It literally was _fused_ to his body - and you couldn’t help but to cringe at the thought of it being fused to his body. Your heart stopped to ache for him, as your gaze landed on the menacing red star painted on the bicep of the bionic arm.

It was _him._

James was the man, who caused all those deaths on the causeway in DC.

James was the man who helped Alexander Pierce build those helicarriers, meant to wipe out half of the Earth’s population.

James was the man who was sent to kill Steve Rogers.

“You’re… you’re….” You stuttered, but couldn’t form any coherent words.

The look in his eyes, made you want to cry. He just looked like he wanted to disappear off the face of the earth, never to return.

“You see why I have to leave? You see why I can’t be close to you?” James spat. At this point, you were pressed against the wall, trying to put distance between the two of you. You didn’t even try to hide the tears escaping your eyes.

He picked up his shirt and tossed it back on, and retrieved his gloves and backpack, as you watched his every move, not knowing what to think.

You befriended and harbored a fucking assassin, and even though you know you should call the fucking cops, you can’t. You just fucking _can’t do it._ You sure as hell weren’t a law breaker, but there was just something about James that impacted your life in these few short weeks, that caused you to deeply care for him.

As James walked towards the door, he stopped, and looked over his shoulder.

“In case you were wondering, _I don’t do that anymore.”_

James then proceeded to slam your door, leaving you confused and horribly shaken up, at the thought of James being by himself - with whoever and _whatever,_ that’s after him.


	4. Chapter 4

You didn’t see him for weeks.

It didn’t take you long to piece together information about him, to find out that he’s James, as in James “Bucky” Barnes. It took a couple days, and a few informants at the smithsonian to find out that Bucky Barnes had indeed been injected with the Super Soldier serum - an imperfect version - and that’s how he survived the fall off the train in the first place.

_You miss him, even though you know you shouldn’t._

* * *

Bucky Barnes stood outside your door, clutching his side, wondering why god hated him so much. (I mean, he obviously knew why, but wanted to know why he _especially_ hated him, on this night.)

He had ended up in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Two teenage punks were picking on some poor homeless kid, who looked barely twenty years old. Bucky told the kids to screw off, and they didn’t like that. Sure, the two kids were in far worse shape than he was, but one decided to shove a pocket knife in his side.

Bucky knew he couldn’t risk going to a hospital, and even when vodka couldn’t get his mind off of the pain in his side, his feet carried him to your place.

After what felt like years, he finally knocked on the door, lightly.

When you opened the door, you nearly fainted. Not just because of Bucky, but because of the alarming crimson spreading through the fabric of his shirt.

“What the hell?!” You whisper yelled, not wanting neighbors to be concerned. He opened his mouth to speak, but you just grabbed his right forearm, and said,

“Hold that thought, and get in here.”

Leading him to the couch, you sat in front of him, on the coffee table, trying to help him take his shirt off.

“ _Christ._ I’m gonna grab some stuff to clean this up, and when I get back, you’re going to tell me everything that happened.” You ordered, as he winced in pain. He noticed the spite in your voice, and couldn’t bring himself to blame you.

Bucky crumpled his ruined shirt into a ball and threw it on the floor, whilst situating himself on the couch. When you rushed back, you had dug out an old first aid kit from your closet, and resumed your place on the coffee table.

Beginning to wipe off the blood, your gaze flickered to his; which was transfixed on your movements.

“Some punks were pickin’ on a homeless kid. Told em’ to… _fuck…_ knock it off, but they didn’t like it.” He explained, wincing at the pressure of your hands.

“You didn’t… hurt them, did you?” You cautiously asked.

“Told you before, don’t do that anymore.” He replied, turning his gaze up to the ceiling.

“You smell like a bar.” You mumbled, dabbing hydrogen peroxide on the wound. Bucky let out a mix of a pained laugh, and replied,

“Vodka can only do so much.”

“ _I_ can barely do so much. You’re gonna have to go to a hospital, I’m not-“

“ ** _No hospitals.”_**

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes.

“I’m a history major, not a trained nurse!”

“M’gonna be fine, just wrap it up.” he groaned in pain, sitting up. You immediately stood up, placing your hands softly on his shoulders.

“Jesus, be careful.” You reprimanded.

“I heal quicker than others.” He mumbled, as you began to secure the gauze on the wound. You worked in silence, knowing why he could heal quicker. It was like there was a gi-fucking-gantic elephant in the room, and you both knew it.

“James,” You started.

“Call me _Bucky._ ” He said, cutting you off.

Cheeks heating up, you stood up, and went to the kitchen, pulling out two glasses, and a bottle of Amaretto. You heard him wince, as he stood up, following you into the kitchen.

“ _Bucky,_ if you decide to stay - please, _please,_ just… just tell me everything.” You asked, pouring the amber liquid into the glasses. Turning around, you hand him the glass, and lean back against the counter. He had put his shirt back on, and the look of the blood made you feel light headed. This whole situation was felt like some sort of fucked up dream.

Bucky took a sip, and those haunting blue eyes met yours.

“Ok.”

* * *

The two of you sat across from each other on the kitchen floor, for what felt like hours; downing the bottle of Amaretto. In college, you could hold your liquor, but it’s been a long time since you’d drank this much, in one night.

He told you about HYDRA, and about how what they made him do, comes back to him as nightmares. He tells you that he remembers his life in pieces, in Brooklyn with Steve Rogers. Bucky told you about his sisters, and how after the Triskelion incident he located their nursing home, and couldn’t bring himself to go see them.

You can’t remember when you started crying, but when he scooted over towards you, and put his flesh arm around your shoulder, you couldn’t help but bury your face in his dirty shirt and _sob._

“You don’t deserve any of this bullshit,” you hiccup, as his fingers softly ran through your hair. “ _Fuck,_ I’m so sorry Bucky… I’m so sorry…”

Bucky let you cry into his chest, until you wear yourself out. When the sun started to rise, he realized that you had fallen asleep. So Bucky stands upas you begun to stir, and he picked you up; wrapping one arm around your back, and the other holding your thigh. You had slightly woken up, and wrapped your hands around his shoulders, and legs around his torso.

“M’tired, Buck.” You grumbled, as he walked carefully to your room. “Hungry too.”

“Get some sleep, немного девушка. You’re still buzzed.” Bucky whispered, placing you on the bed.

You grumbled something he couldn’t make out, and rolled on to your side.

* * *

You didn’t wake up, until you felt the vomit come up your throat. You quickly moved over the bin, and emptied your stomach into it. You mentally note to thank Bucky, as you brushed your teeth. Walking back out to the kitchen, Bucky was munching on some cereal, straight out of the box.

“Want some milk?” You ask, pulling a water bottle out of the fridge, and looking for some Advil.

“Like it better dry.” He answered, sitting himself on top of the counter.

After swallowing the pills, Bucky handed you the box of cereal, and you accepted; joining him on top of the counter.

“Thanks for moving the trash next to my bed.” You weakly said, giving him a small smile.

“Thanks for takin’ care of me.” He returned.

“That reminds me!” You exclaim, hopping off of the counter. “Let me take a look at it, just to make sure it’s ok.”

“You just want to see me without a shirt on.” Bucky mumbled, with a small smirk. Blushing, you just rolled your eyes.

“Do not. Take it off, Barnes.”

He removed his shirt, and you carefully peeled back the gauze. For a stab wound, he did heal pretty quickly. Cleaning off the excess dried blood, the wound looked like it had a couple more days before it would be completely healed.

“That’s incredible,” you commented, subconsciously grazing your fingertips over his stomach. Bucky pretended to ignore the tingles from your fingertips. “I’d give it a couple days, before it’s healed.”

“If I was Steve, it’d be healed tomorrow.” He said, putting his shirt back on.

“Y’know, the offer is still on the table,” you said, as you began to chop up some fruit. “You can stay.”

Bucky sighed, and sat across from you on the island.

“I don’t know. I really… I really want to. The only thing stopping me, is - well,” He started, trying to find the right words. “I don’t want to put you in danger.”

The minute those words came out of his mouth, it all suddenly felt real.

You were technically, an accomplice to a wanted man.

You should run. You should run and contact the police, hell, maybe even Captain America himself. But something in the back of your mind is screaming at you to let him stay. It’s not that you feel responsible for him, because lets face it, the man could take care of himself. It’s the fact that you genuinely _care_ for him. So yeah, maybe you should contact Captain America. But you just _can’t_. Bucky is your friend, and you couldn’t do that to him. “If you think about it, this _danger_ you’re talking about - this is the last place they’d look. They wouldn’t suspect a girl like me to be giving you housing.” You thought out loud, sliding a bowl of fruit towards him. Bucky threw a strawberry in his mouth, and thought about it. You technically _were_ right. Nobody would suspect an intern, let alone a woman, to help him.

Resting your elbows on the island, you dropped your chin onto your knuckles.

“C’mon, James. All you’d have to do is clean up after yourself, and maybe do some chores while I’m gone,” you persisted. “In my opinion, it’s a pretty damn good deal.”

You gave him a reassuring smile, hoping it would put him at ease.

Bucky sat back in his chair, and looked at the girl standing in front of him.

His world has been filled with guns, blood, red, and pure evil. Bucky Barnes had no one he could really call his friend, because the last time he saw his friend, he was trying to kill him. But this girl, she was _good._ Her world was filled with smiles and good films and friends. She was good, _pure_ even. Maybe, in a way, she could help him. Maybe she could be his salvation.

“So, what are the sleeping arrangements going to be?” Bucky asked, causing her to beam at him.

Her smile alone, made his heart feel full.

He could get used to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really like this chapter wow!! 
> 
> i also listened to goner by twenty one pilots, while writing a majority of this chapter. i feel like buck could relate a lot to it!
> 
> talk to me!
> 
> tumblr: sgntsbarnes


	5. Chapter 5

Turns out, the ex-assassin makes a pretty damn good roommate.

You two fell easily into a routine.

The two of you switch off beds, every other week. Bucky always tidied up after his day, making the bed in military style and picking up his dirty clothing off of the ground. (Bucky rolls his eyes, when he sees the amount of _your_ clothing on the ground. You were _terrible_ at keeping up with laundry.)

When his nightmares invade his mind, he’ll come to you, and lightly shake you awake. You scoot over, and drape the blanket over him, and will ask him about them, if he wanted to talk about it. There were times where he would, and there were times where he wouldn’t. On the times he wouldn’t talk about them; he’d ask you about your life.

He’d ask about your family, your siblings, your childhood, and you’d always answer. Sometimes it’d drag into embarrassing childhood memories, like how fucking _awkward_ and _messy_ your first kiss was, to the one time you face planted during gym class. It seemed to always make him feel better, just watching _you_ relive the memories, and not to mention, you looked pretty damn gorgeous when you got embarrassed.

You usually left for work at around 9:30, leaving a tiny list of things for Bucky to do around the house, so he wouldn’t get bored. It usually consisted of taking out the trash, picking up the house, and doing some dishes. Bucky actually liked to do them, because it would help clear his head. When he finished the list, he would typically read some books, or watch some TV. It sounds boring, but Bucky genuinely enjoyed having a say in what he can do throughout his day.

When you got home at around 6, Bucky would smile from the living room, and help you take in groceries, if you had gone out shopping that day. There was one time Bucky tagged along (in which he wore a baseball cap, with his hair tied up, just in case), so he could pick out some new clothes.

( _Bucky Barnes, you cannot wear the same three shirts and boxers all the time. It’s disgusting!)_

_(I’d like to think it’s vintage.)_

_(You’re hopeless.)_

During the evening and night, you threw on some old records your Grandmother gave you, and cooked dinner. Bucky particularly liked Elvis. More often than not, you caught glimpses of him swaying - and sometimes even doing a little dance - while helping you cook.

_(Y’know, I remember some moves from back then. We should dance.)_

_(Never in a million years, Barnes. I’m a_ **_terrible_ ** _dancer.)_

_(C’mon, it’ll be fun!)_

_(How about an I.O.U?)_

_(I’m gettin’ that dance.)_

Tonight, Bucky had requested potato soup and rolls, which had you both in the kitchen. Bucky peeled the potatoes and handed them to you, as you mixed the ingredients in the pot. Bucky had also recently found your iPod, and grew fond of Hozier’s melodic voice. So his album was playing softly in the background, as you both chatted quietly about each others day.

Once the soup and rolls were ready, Buckys eyes fluttered shut as he took his first spoonful.

“Dear god, this is fuckin’ amazing,” he groaned in pleasure, as he took another spoonful.“Seriously, you’re an amazing cook.”

Taking a bite of your roll, you smiled.

“Old family recipe. My Grandma made it all the time, it used to be my favorite as a kid.”

“When Steve and I were kids, my Ma always tried to get us to eat vegetables, but we would always throw it to the strays outside,” Bucky chuckled, as he helped himself to another roll. “Then we’d go down a block or two, and get the biggest burgers. Ma would get so mad, she’d smack us on the head with a newspaper. I thought Steve would die from an asthma attack, from laughin’ too hard.”

Unknowingly, Bucky had a full on grin plastered on his face - toothy grin and _laughing_. It was the happiest you’d seen him look in a while, and god, how you wanted that smile to make more appearances.

“Sounds like the two of you were always up to no good, huh?” You remarked. He just leaned back in his chair, tilting his head to look at you, with that beautiful smile of his.

“Young and stupid, that’s what we were.” He stated, picking up his empty bowl, and taking yours. “One time, I was playin’ wingman for Steve. He had the biggest crush on Ruthie Mayfield. He drew her the nicest drawing, and even bought chocolates for her! When we were on our way to her place, some punks were makin’ fun of him,” he told, as he began scrubbing the dishes. You had taken your beer bottles, and threw them away. You leaned against the counter, listening with a grin.

“So the next thing we know, we’re fighting these two punks! Stevie didn’t even realize he had dropped the presents, and when we were through, we couldn’t help but _laugh._ The chocolates fell out of the bag and on to the street, and the drawing had his footprints on em’.”

You snorted, covering your mouth with your hand, as Bucky joined in with you.

“You’re both dorks!” You said, as Buckys laughter suddenly died down. Looking up at him, Bucky was leaning over the sink, with his eyes shut.

“Bucky, are you alright?” You tentatively asked, trying to look at his face.

He just huffed, and moved the hair out of his face. He clenched his eyes shut and shook his head, like he _didn’t_ want you to see him like this. Weak, vulnerable.

“I- I just… it comes back to me. In pieces.” Bucky finally spoke, voice hoarse.

Rubbing his back, he pushed back slightly on to your hand.

“Memories?” You replied softly, already knowing the answer.

He just nodded, and took a few deep breaths. Looking up at the ceiling, he bit his lower lip.

“I miss him.”

Those three words, was something that he had buried inside of himself, ever since he fell. Steve was the one person Bucky never quite forgot, despite the horrendous torture he endured during his Winter Soldier days. It was always Steve.

“God, I miss him.” He repeated, with the same shattered tone.

Instinctively, you stood up on your tippy toes, and pulled his tense body in for a hug. Arms going around his neck, you tucked your head in his shoulder.

“I know, Bucky, I know.” You whispered into his neck.

The amount of fucking empathy in your voice, made him wrap his arms around your middle, and just bury his face in your neck. He honest to god couldn’t remember the last time he hugged someone - and fucking meant it. So with that, Bucky held you with all the strength he had; emotionally, as well as physically.

Your hand traveled up to the nape of his neck, where it lightly ran through his scalp. You could feel his breath hitch on your exposed neck, and you continued your movements. Bucky had his hands clutching your sweater, as if you were his anchor to reality.

The two of you stayed like this, for god knows how long. The only thing that made you pull away from him, was when he finally picked his head up from your shoulder.

“You okay?” You asked, voice wavering.

His normally haunting blue eyes, had something in them that you’d never seen before. _Hope._

“No,” he replied, after a few seconds; causing you to give him a puzzled look. “But I will be. Someday.”

* * *

 After that tender moment with Bucky, you both decided to finish up the dishes, and listen to some more records. As you went through the plastic crate full of records, Bucky pulled out a six pack, and ventured back into the living room. You showed him some of your favorite records from the 80s - which was mainly Michael Jackson.

“Gotta warn you, I’m a cheap drunk.” You announced, as you dramatically took the last sip. Throwing the can over your shoulder, Bucky, who was on the couch, chuckled.

“Now watch _this,”_ you exclaimed, as Beat It, came to it’s chorus.

Bucky smirked, and couldn’t hold in his laughter - as you tried to dance. It looked as if you were a baby giraffe, trying to glide backwards.

“What are you tryna accomplish with _that_ move?” He chuckled, motioning to your feet.

Your jaw dropped, as you threw your hands on your hips.

“It’s the fucking _moon walk,_ James!”

“Looks like you’re about to slip, and fall!” He retorted, setting his can on the coffee table.

“Well if you’re just the dance _extraordinaire_ , show me what you got!” You challenged, as Bucky stood up. He scoffed, as he searched the crate for a certain record. He let out a little, ‘ah ha!’ as he pulled out a Nat King Cole record.

Putting it on the turntable, he set the needle to the right song. His dulcet voice, began singing, “(I Love You) For Sentimental Reasons.” You giggled, and fell back on to the couch.

“Oh, _ya_ _lady killa!”_ You sang out, in your best Brooklyn accent, throwing a hand to your forehead. Bucky approached you, and held out his hand. You knew he wanted that dance, and you raised your brows at him.

“The answer is no, Romeo.” You argued.

“C’mon, just one dance. Told ya’, I was getting that dance.” He persisted, pulling you up anyways. You groaned, but let him continue to position the both of you.

His left hand rested lightly on your hip, as his right hand took yours. You rolled your eyes, as you put your free hand on his shoulder. Looking up at him, he had the most _smug_ little grin on his face.

“Now, just follow my lead.” He stated, as he begun to move the both of you.

You couldn’t really hide the prominent blush, that dusted your cheekbones.

Bucky was actually, a pretty fucking good dancer.

He moved in languid and graceful steps; never stepping on your toes. Due to the alcohol, you were more clumsy than usual, which made you step on _his_ toes, almost every three steps. He’d just look down at you, and laugh. You just bit your lip, suppressing a laugh, and rested your head in his shoulder.

Moving your face away from his neck, you tilted your head, to look up at him. As you expected, he was looking right back down at you. He was looking at you like you were his fucking _world._ His gaze dropped to your nose, and then to your lips, and back up to your eyes. Like he was trying to memorize your face, like he would forget about you the very next day.

You couldn’t help but notice the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips, causing your heart to leap. Subconsciously, you did the same.

You wanted to kiss him.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but you wanted to kiss away his pain. You wanted to kiss away his loneliness, his demons.

That’s when you noticed, how little space there was in between the two of you. One movement, and your lips would be on his. Bucky, had noted that as well. His heart felt like it was going to explode.

He leaned down a little further, just enough for him to feel your lips brush against his. But right as you were going to give in, the shrill ringtone of your phone caused you to jump.

Bucky’s grip on your side loosened, as he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

You just bit your lower lip, and looked up at him. His cheeks were pink, and he tried to look everywhere but at _you._

“I-I’m gonna go grab that.” You stuttered, backing into the kitchen, to find out who the _fuck_ ruined your moment. You ducked into the kitchen, out of Bucky’s sight, and left to go answer the phone.

Bucky stood in your living room, beating himself up.

_He should’ve just fuckin’ grabbed you, and done it. The old Bucky, wouldn’t have let anything interrupt such an intimate moment, like that._

Bucky just groaned, and began picking up the empty cans off the coffee table, and empty bags of chips.

_Technology is a fuckin’ mood killer._

Turns out, it was Olivia, who had called. She was angry at her boyfriend, which for some reason, made her call you. You would’ve told her to screw off, but she didn’t know Bucky was living with you. And she didn’t know that you were currently semi-drunk, finally admitting your crush on him to yourself. You had just nodded and listened, while she ranted. After the call ended, you ran your fingers through your hair, and rounded the corner to see Bucky, trash in hand.

“I can get-“

“Nah, it’s alright,” he waved, making his way into the kitchen. “You should get to bed, sleep off the alcohol.” He suggested, throwing away the trash.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right.” You muttered, watching him move past you. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He laid the blankets on the couch, and watched you move into your room.

* * *

 Bucky Barnes was never a saint, not even before his Winter Soldier days. But there was something about you, the way you move, the way you talk, the way… _fuck._ The way you did everything, with such grace, made him weak. You made him forget about all the bullshit in his life, you made him think of the present; and how to be happy. 

He didn't know if it was love, lust, or friendship. To him, it didn't even matter. He just wanted you in his life, and he knew, that he couldn't lose you, like everything and everyone else. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright kids, strap on your seat belts, cause i gotta thing or two to tell you all!
> 
> 1) from this chapter on, i'm probably not going to be following anything canon. i mean, if civil war was already out, i'd follow that, but it's not! but that's why it's called fan fiction, amiright?
> 
> 2) if you're currently reading fate, i'm TRULY sorry for not updating it. i feel like it's already not so good, and i'm gonna make up for it in the last chapter. GAH. i'm so so sorry. (i might even rewrite it if i feel inspired enough)
> 
> 3) this was supposed to be a mini-fic, so i'm currently aiming for 9-10 chapters. like originally, this was supposed to be a one shot, but i couldn't help myself, because bucky barnes owns this ass
> 
> 4) who should i write about next? Loki? Lee Pace? tell me in the comments!! (not going to lie, that lee pace one shot i wrote back in the summer was so lit)
> 
> 5) please know that i'm currently in school and i'm working, so updates might not come quick. finals are also approaching, so please don't hate me for not updating a lot
> 
> 6) ENJOY THE SMUT YOU HEATHENS

The next morning, you woke up to Bucky, lightly knocking on the door. Sitting up in your bed, you rubbed your eyes and stretched. Bucky was leaning against the doorframe, with a small smile. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a white henley, with his hair loosely tied up in a bun. He looked _devastatingly_ handsome.

“What time even is it?” You yawned, as Bucky came in, and sat on the end of the bed.

“Almost noon,” he replied, lightly chuckling at your reaction. “Plus, I’m hungry, and I wanted to know if you’d make pancakes.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you swung your feet off the bed, as you looked down at your pajamas. Blushing, you’d realized that in your buzzed (and lets be honest, slightly _horny_ state) state, you only threw on a pair of shorts and a tank top. You were suddenly grateful that your back was to him, so he couldn’t see your flushed cheeks.

Throwing on your silk bathrobe, you quickly tied it around your body, and padded off in to the kitchen. Bucky, however, did notice your pajama choices, and tried to push away the thought of your chest pressed against his.

Following you in to the kitchen, Bucky helped you get the griddle down from the top shelf, and set up your iPod to play some music. Normally, the silence that would follow would be comfortable, natural. But the silence that followed this morning, was heavy with flashbacks from the previous night. The way you looked up at him, could’ve sent him to his fucking _knees._ The way you fit perfectly in his shoulder, the way you licked your lips… you were going to be the death of him.

For you, it was the way he seemed to remember the dance from the forties. It was the way he touched you delicately, the way his lips _barely_ brushed over yours, the way his tongue wet his lips.

Glancing over your shoulder, as you stirred the batter, you reverted your gaze back to the task at hand, when your eyes met his. Bucky was sitting at the island with a book, and looked back down quickly, as you made eye contact. The two of you continued this ridiculous cat and mouse game, until you made a stack of pancakes.

“Hey Buck, can you grab the the syrup and jam from the fridge?” You asked softly, breaking the silence, as you brought the plate to the island. He nodded, and got the syrup and jam, and sat next to you.

The two of you sat and ate, making _some_ small talk - you even talked about the _weather_ , for gods sake. Were you _seriously_ going to let a little crush belittle your personality? Apparently. You could barely finish a sentence without wanting to kiss him. Stacking his plate on top of yours, you gathered the forks and knives and also placed them on the dirty plates.

“I feel bad that you’ve been cooped up in here,” you began, as you placed the dishes in the sink. “We should get out of the house - and before you go saying it’s ‘too dangerous,’ I got some ideas!” You exclaimed, hearing shuffling from behind you.

Bucky leaned against the counter, and raised his brows.

“And what are those ideas?”

“Well, we could go out to eat. Or, we could to the park. Or-“ you listed, before he cut you of with laughter.

“Alright, alright. I guess I could use some time out.”

You scoffed in reply, and turned to grab the griddle, to put it away. Stepping up on your tippy toes, you replied,

“I honestly think the last time you went out was-“ you started, but stopped. Buckys left hand rested softly on your hip, while his right hand took the griddle from your hands; swiftly placing it up on to the shelf.

The heat from his chest was like a fucking radiator, and you felt your heartbeat race. Turning around slowly, you looked up at him; to find him looking down at you, with pink dusted on his cheeks. Hesitantly, Bucky placed both hands on either side of you, on top of the counter. Essentially, you were trapped. But what a _wonderful_ way to be trapped.

Biting your lower lip, Bucky lowered his face to yours slowly, leaving a little gap - as if saying, _you don’t have to._ But the way you could feel his breath against your skin, made your eyes flutter shut and heart quiver.

3… 2… 1…

When you lean forward and press your lips to his, something _clicks._

It starts out innocent, enough. You slid your fingers up to cup his cheeks, as the two of you just figure out what feels _good._ Leaning back a little, you grip the nape of his neck; probing his lower lip, deepening the kiss. You felt his hands gripping the satin fabric of your robe, and you smirk lightly. As his tongue moved with yours, that’s when the innocence seemed to get forgotten.

You can tell he gets more confidence when his hands start wandering. They move against the satin and up to the side of your neck, where you gasp at the cold metal, egging him on to explore your mouth more. At this point, you’re heart is beating a million times a minute and it feels as if you could forget about the shitty world you live in; and focus all on the soldier kissing you.

When he eased off of you, he caught your lower lip between his teeth, causing an almost _embarrassing_ gasp to escape from your lips. He immediately pressed wet kisses along your jaw, and below your ear, where he bit lightly. Your hand immediately went to grasp the back of his head, as he licked over it.

Tugging his hair lightly, he groaned and his lips went back to yours. His tongue quickly found yours once more, and it was everything you’d ever dreamed of. From the way his plump lips felt, to his hot breath, he was the closest thing to heaven on earth.Unexpectedly, he bended his knees and hooked your thighs under his forearms; hauling you up to the countertop. The high pitched squeak that you let out should’ve embarrassed you, but the only thing distracting you was the feeling of his fingers trailing up your sides. Lips still connected, his fingers messily undid your bath robe, and you pushed it off of your shoulders, on to the kitchen floor. Squeezing your fingers on his broad shoulders, you moaned lightly when his flesh hand lightly wrapped around your throat.

“Wanna touch you,” he groaned, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s ok.” You nearly whimpered, nodding your head excessively.

His lips went back to yours, kissing you like you were a breath of fresh air. His big hands slid up your hips, and cupped your breasts. Pressing forward in to his body, you gasped in when he kneaded them. Bucky moved his hands down your sides one last time, before sliding his hands _down, down, down_ into your shorts. You bit his lower lip, eliciting a growl as his fingers ran over the damp cotton. When his finger slip below your panties, you nearly claw at his chest when he begins to rub your clit in quick, irregular circles. His touch ignites your nerves and sends warmth straight to your abdomen, as you gasped out against his neck,

“Oh my god, _fuck, right there…_ ** _Bucky…_** _”_

Your thighs tensed and squeezed his hips as your orgasm washes over you. Your vision went white and your body fucking _quivered_ against his, as you let out obscene noises.

“You’re a fuckin’ beauty.” Bucky whispered, hooking his metal arm around your back, and the other under your ass; pulling you off of the counter. His strength _alone_ could be enough to get you off again and again.

Quickly stumbling through the hallway, he nearly slammed your back against the wall when you bit his neck. The pictures on the wall shook as he dropped you to your feet; hands flying next to each side of your head.

Hurriedly making work of his belt, his gaze on you was heady as you yanked his jeans down. Kicking them to the side, he wasted no time in picking you back up again, and hauling you into your room.

Fisting the collar of his shirt, you pressed your lips hard against his, as he set you down on the edge of the bed, tugging your tank top off. You hooked your fingers on the hem of his shirt, and pulled up, letting him take the rest off. And _god,_ he could put even Hercules to shame. His chest was broad and built with the only scars being where his arm was fused to his body - and that was the most bravest, most beautiful, thing you’d ever seen. Naturally, your hand travelled up the ladder on his stomach, just admiring his build.

He gave you a faint smirk, before leaning down, and kissing you deeply; coaxing your tongue out of your mouth, as he backed the two of you upwards on the bed. Bucky groaned at the feeling of your hardened nipples bursting against his chest, and to his hips own volition, grinded against yours. Your fingertips glided across the marred skin and back up towards the nape of his neck; tugging on his hair.

With a groan swallowed by your kiss, Bucky bit and licked down to your breasts, where they attached themselves to your hardened nipples. His free hand cupped the other, squeezing and pinching with an urgency that you can understand. Moving lower, he sucked a deep purple mark under your breast, before licking a line down your stomach. His hands tugged your shorts and panties down, leaving you bare to him. Looking up at you, his eyes were dilated and filled with what you could only describe as _lust._

The first lick was dubious.

The second lick, was anything but.

His hands hooked under your thighs, and pinned your hips to the mattress, as his tongue delve into your cunt. His scruff would rub against your inner thighs, intensifying the pleasure. Your hips tried to buck up against his face, but his strength was something you couldn’t fight. But when he laced one hand with yours, and the other began fast circles around your clit, you were _gone._ The second orgasm was somehow better than the first, and left you gasping and chest heaving up and down.

Tangling your fingers in his hair, you frantically help pull him up to your lips. Throwing your legs over his hips, you used all of your strength and flipped the two of you over; shoving Bucky down to the bed by his shoulders. Bucky growled, as you kissed his chest; tongue flicking out to tease his nipples. Looking up at him through your lashes, his mouth was parted and wet with from _you_ and his own saliva, panting out little gasps.

Kissing down his chest, you let yourself get carried away - sneaking bites here and there, causing him to growl. When you reached his briefs, you palmed him. Bucky Barnes was _definitely_ packing some heat.

You took the opportunity to mouth him a little over his briefs, rubbing your nose along the shaft. Hearing Bucky let out light moans was something that was slightly out of character, for your broody soldier. It made you want him even more.

Pulling down his underwear, you tried to hide your shock. His cock is long and thick and _beautiful,_ with a trail of hair leading from his belly button to the base of his cock. Taking him in your hand, you lick a thick stripe from the underneath of his cock to the top; maintaining eye contact. He took your hair and held it in a ponytail - as you took him in your mouth.

You had to give him some credit for not fucking your mouth right away - because he had was a lot to take in. He’s larger in girth than any boyfriend you’d had before, so it took some effort not to gag as he hit the back of your throat.

“ _Fuck_ doll,” he whimpered, “you look so fuckin’ good.”

Closing your eyes and resting your hands on his thighs, you come back up and begin to bob - with the help of his fingers tangled in your hair. Every time he hit the back of your throat, saliva slipped out of your mouth and that seemed to spur him on even more. As you go down on a particularly deep suck, your reflex makes you swallow which causes him to let out the most _wrecked_ moan.

Pulling off of him with swollen lips and slightly misty eyes, you gasp as he hauls you up and underneath him once more; lips and teeth clashing as he pushes your thighs apart; cock heavy against your thigh. His metal hand went up to the headboard, and the other cradled your face in adoration. He had a hazy look painted on his face.

His thumb rubbed your lower lip and slipped in between your lips, lightly sucking on it.

“You’re incredible.” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair.

“You sure about this?” He replied.

“God, yes.”

Bucky just lightly laughed, and gripped himself in his fist, and pressed the head against your clit, eliciting a gasp from you. And in one languid motion, he slipped inside of you; resting his forehead against yours.

You let out a squeak, wrapping your arms around his neck. Pressing kisses along his jaw, you tried to steady your breathing; after all, like him, it had been a while for you. Bucky noticed this, and dropped his face into your neck.

“Ok?” He mumbled, hot breath against your neck.

Pulling him away from your neck, you cupped his cheeks and look in to those blue eyes, and bit your lower lip.

“Yeah, yeah - it’s just been a while.” You reassured, kissing his lips.

Like the gentleman he was - or used to be - he let you adjust to his length, whispering words of endearment. As soon as you felt the slight uncomfortable burn pass, you kissed him deeply - and god, this man had the most amount of stamina that would put a god to shame.

He set up a pace that was a mixture of rough, controlled, and _deep._ With each thrust of his hips you could feel him deep within you, and every off centered kiss sent sparks throughout your body. He had his jaw clenched and his flesh hand would stroke the side of your throat; fingers slipping in to your mouth.

As you felt the familiar coil in your stomach, your jaw slacked, and your eyes skewed shut.

“You gonna come again, pretty girl?” He groaned, slipping his fingers between your sweaty bodies, rubbing your clit in circles.

“Oh _fuck!”_ You nearly screamed, wrapping your legs tight around his waist, as he rocked in to you roughly. Your fingers dug tightly intohis shoulders as you feel the coil _tighten and tighten and then —_

it fucking explodes inside of you, and you cry out into his shoulder as he tells you how good you are for him and how good and tight you feel around his cock. You should be tired, worn out, sated — but the primal feeling inside of you wants to keep _going_ and _going._ And that’s what the two of you do.

His burly hands gripped your hips tight and turned you on to your knees and forearms, his sticky chest pressing in to your back; as he re-entered you. The sounds that filled the room were obscene and pornographic and _dirty_ and you fucking loved it.

His metal hand would cup your jaw and turn your face to land a rough, wet kiss on to your lips; ending with a bite or murmurs of _дерьмо._ And it surprised the both of you when his flesh hand landed a smack on your ass, and it surprised you even _more_ when you whimpered out ‘ _again.’_

When you come apart his cock again, he turns around and rests his back against the headboard, pulling you frantically back on to his lap. You crashed your lips to his and wasted no time sinking down on his length; bringing his hands to rest on your hips. And you found that even when you’re in the more dominating position, he sets the pace. He moved you up and down at a quick pace, sucking on your breasts as you rested one hand against the headboard and one buried in his hair.

“You going to come for me?” You breathed out, in a sultry tone. He looked up at you with a glazed look in his eyes, lips parting to form an ‘O.’ “You’re so big, Bucky. You stretch me out so nice.”

Bucky literally _growled,_ fingers digging hard in to your hips.

“God damn, your cunt is so tight.” He grunted, rolling the two of you on to your back. “M’gonna come.” He lewdly moaned.

Pulling out, his hands cupped your jaw, leaning forward to pant against your mouth. Quickly sticking your hand between your heated bodies, you took his length in your hand, and stroked him fast.

“Oh— _fuck!”_ Bucky gasped, bucking in to your hand.

His come spurt out hot and white on to your stomach, his lips crashing on to yours — getting more chin than lips. Bucky then collapsed next to you, and rolled over to search through your nightstand. Pulling out some kleenex, he wiped his come off of you, and pulled you into his chest.

Time seemed to slow down, as the two of you gleamed with sweat, chests rising up and down heavily. Both of your hair was ratted and messy, and eyes glazed over in a post-coital haze.

Rolling on to your stomach, you tucked your arm under your pillow and faced him. He did the same, and the two of you looked at each other with tired smiles. He scooted closer so that your faces were centimeters apart, and traced his fingers up and down your bare back.

“That was fuckin’ incredible.” He whispered hoarsely.

Letting out a breathy laugh, you pecked his lips.

“Every time I move, m’gonna feel you.”

“Good,” he whispers, “lets me know I’ve done my job right.”

Rolling your eyes, you used up the last of your strength to scoot on top of him, wrapping your limbs around him. He let out an ‘oomph,’ followed by a small chuckle. Burying your face in his shoulder, you mumbled,

“M’tired.”

“It’s almost 3 o’clock, honey.”

“So?” You retorted, yawning.

“Wanna take you out on a date.”

At that, you looked up and rested your chin on his chest.

“Is that so?” You questioned, pressing kisses along his chest.

“Mhm. So how about we shower and you get dolled up?” He suggested, stroking your hair.

“Sounds like a date, Sergeant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i enjoy sinning so much
> 
> talk to me!  
> tumblr: sgntsbarnes


	7. Chapter 7

Time seemed to slow down, with Bucky.

After he nearly dragged you out of bed, the two of you showered together, and he even picked out a dress for you to wear. You, in return, picked out for him a dark green t-shirt with a black jacket and jeans, and a baseball cap. The two of you linked fingers, and strolled around DC. You ate hot dogs from a stand near the local park and sat on the bench and people watched, with his arm around your shoulders and your head on his shoulder. He even accompanied you to pet a few puppies, and smiled fondly at you at how you rambled on about your dog when you were younger. He told you that he and Steve once rescued a stray puppy, and gave it to his sisters for Christmas. You pretended to ignore the faint sadness in his eyes, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

On the way back, you wrapped your arm around his metal arm and linked your fingers with his. Every so often, he would lean down and press a chaste kiss against your temple, and squeeze your hand.

As you grew closer to your place, the kisses became more consistent and lingering. Before you knew it, your legs were wrapped around his waist and your back was against the door. Smiling against your lips, Bucky turned the two of you and walked towards the nearest flat surface; which happened to be the table.

With his metal arm wrapped around your waist and the other holding your thigh, it was easy as lifting up your dress and pulling out his length.

The setting sun leaked its light in through the window, casting golden shadows in to your apartment. Bucky’s thrusts were controlled and deep, and he cradled your face with one hand while the other raked through your thick curls. It felt like you were making love. It felt like a fucking _dream._

After both of you came, he pressed his face in to your neck, and rested his weight on yours.

“As nice as that was, I think we should move. Your belt is digging in to my thigh.” You laughed, playfully pulling at his hair.

He chuckled and leaned up, as he tucked himself in his jeans. Helping you sit up straight on the table, he laced your fingers together, and lightly kissed your knuckles. It was delicate, coming from the soldier. You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You. This,” you started, cupping the sides of his neck with your hands. “If you told me two months ago that I’d be screwing James Buchanan Barnes on my kitchen table, I wouldn’t had believed you.”

Leaning forward so that his lips brushed against yours, your breath hitched. He lingered there, lightly running his fingertips across the exposed skin of your thighs. What a fucking _tease._

“Kiss me already, old man.” You whispered, with a smirk.

“Keep that talk up, m’gonna have to punish you.” He replied.

“I think I might like that.” You challenged, noticing the way his fingers were now gripping your hips.

“Think I just might like that, too.” He muttered, before lurching forward to connect your lips.

* * *

 

As much as you wished you could stay home with Bucky, the real world was calling you back. It took all of your might to remove Bucky’s grip on you in bed, just to go get ready for work.

Just as you were slipping on your blazer and heels, you felt Bucky grab your wrist, pulling you in to his shirtless chest.

“Jesus, you’re making it hard for me to leave.” You chuckled, running your fingers over his chest.

“My motives are strictly innocent, doll. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t leave without givin’ me a kiss.” He laughed.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sergeant.” You laughed, as his lips met yours. You could feel his smile, and that made your heart flutter. Attempting to pull away, Bucky gripped you harder and pressed more kisses to your face, causing you to howl with laughter.

“Ok, ok! I really do have to go!” You gasped, as he pressed messy kisses along your jaw.

“C’mon, don’t leave.” He whined, releasing you from his grip.

“Thought your motives were innocent, Barnes.” You smirked, throwing your purse strap on your shoulder.

Shrugging, he stole one last kiss, while saying, “Anything, but, doll.”

As you turned to leave, Bucky called your name.

“Buck, I really have to go!” You stated, before he threw a scarf at you. Confused, you started, “It’s almost Spring, why-“

“Your neck.” He answered, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Laughing, you almost forgot. Those plump lips of his were almost always attached to your neck.

“Control, Barnes! Get some.” You laughed, throwing it over your neck, before leaving.

* * *

 

Today was slightly more busy, given it was only a Monday. Daniel had hired on a couple more interns, which meant you were appointed to be their senior, and give them the run down on the building, exhibits, and just about everything else. The interns were lovely, and quick learners. After you appointed them to assigned exhibits, you made your way to the Cap exhibit, where Olivia was leading a group of elementary schoolers.

Giving her a quick wave, you took your place at your podium, and begun some paperwork. Every so often, you would glance over at the video monitor of Steve and Bucky from the 40s. Perhaps in another life, you could’ve known what the old Bucky was like, and been friends with the two boys from Brooklyn.

After _finally_ sorting out some papers to get the new fossil exhibit, you noticed a man dressed in a leather jacket, black baseball cap, and sunglasses, almost scrutinizing Bucky’s memorial. Ignoring it, you thought he was just one of the army vets the Smithsonian usually attracts. But after you left for your lunch break and came back, he was still there.

_How odd,_ you thought. So, straightening out your blazer, you walked over next to him, and cleared your throat. Saying the usual bio about Bucky you practically memorized before, the man looked over at you, with an impressed smile.

“You sure do know a lot about Caps best friend, don’t you?” He asked, turning towards you.

_If only he knew, that Caps best friend was buried between your legs only hours before this._

“I read a lot about the Howling Commando’s during college.” You laughed, holding out your hand and giving your name.

The man looked down at your hand, and took off his glasses. You tried not to stare.

His face was marred, with what looked like burn marks. It contrasted with his handsome looks, scars standing out like a sore thumb. He shook your hand firmly, and gave you a toothy smile.

“Rumlow. Brock Rumlow.” He stated. He held your hand a little too long for your liking, causing you to not so subtly pull away fast. It didn’t really seem to phase him, though.

“It’s really a shame, that little ol’ Sergeant Barnes didn’t get frozen along with Cap, huh?” He joked, nodding towards the picture of Bucky. Gulping, you gave him an uneasy grin and laugh.

“Yeah, what a shame.”

Brock turned to you once more, and said,

“It’s my face, isn’t it?”

You nearly booked it.

Feeling embarrassed, you blushed and rambled, trying to tell him that it wasn’t it, but he just waved a hand and smiled.

“It’s okay sweetheart, I was only joking. If you want to know, it was friendly fire.” He explained, as you tried to calm your racing heart.

“I’m really sorry, sir.” You finally apologized, his attempt at humor calming your nerves.

“Look, I’m sorry if I’m coming across as forward, but I couldn’t help but notice no ring. Make it up to me with a coffee?” He asked, with a smirk.

_No shit, you’re being forward. I don’t know what it is, but this guy makes me nervous._ You thought, as you tucked your hair behind your ears.

“Um, I’m flattered, really! I just don’t think my boyfriend would really be happy about it, though.” You said with a light laugh, trying to escape his intense gaze.

He shrugged, and shoved his hands in his pockets. Smiling, he said,

“Wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

And with that, he took once last look at Bucky’s memorial, and left.

You really hoped that was the last time you saw him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short filler chapter, with the arrival of the beloved asshole, brock rumlow.
> 
> sorry updates have been slow, but expect more because finals are OVER! WOO HOO!
> 
> also, I FINALLY got around to seeing star wars: the force awakens, and ya girl over here has some ideas for poe dameron and kylo ren and mAybe some rey action :)
> 
> talk to me!
> 
> tumblr: sgntsbarnes


	8. Chapter 8

With your bare chest pressed against Bucky’s side, his fingers lightly raked through your hair as you drew patterns in to his chest. The minute you walked through the door, he nearly dragged you back to the bedroom, fingers already forming more bruises on your thighs.

Multiple orgasms later, here the two of you were; glistening with sweat and heavy hearts beating hard. Pressing a kiss to your temple, Bucky asked,

“How was your day, doll?”

Laughing, you playfully nipped his shoulder, causing him to scrunch up his face and move your face away playfully with his hand.“Now you ask me?!”

Letting out a breathy laugh, he tugged your hair.

“I just missed you. And those pretty moans.” He shrugged. Feeling your cheeks heat up, you roll your eyes. He _really_ enjoys making you flustered, the little shit.

“Jesus christ,” you grinned, rolling over on top of him, so you straddled his hips. Bucky smirked, linking your fingers with his. “ _Anyways,_ my day was filled with lots of paperwork. We’re getting some new fossils, which is dumb, considering we already have an exhibit on you _and_ cap.” You said, earning a drollery smack on the ass.

“ _Ha, ha,_ very funny,” Bucky reprimanded, trying but all failing to keep a hardened expression. “anything else exciting happen?” He added.

Biting your lower lip, you leaned down, and connected your lips to his softly, leaning your forehead against his.

“Some creep asked me out to coffee. But I told them that my _boyfriend_ wouldn’t like that very much.” You said, whispering the last part, ghosting your lips against his. Raising his brow, concern was evident on his face.

“He didn’t try anything else?” He questioned, trailing his fingers across your neck.

Shaking your head, you replied,

“Thankfully not.”

Bucky sat there for a moment, and realized how easily someone _better_ and more _attractive_ could one day come up and steal you away from him. He tried to push those horrid to the back of his mind, as the fact of you calling you _her boyfriend_ overtook his mind. Bucky liked the sound of that. He liked it _a lot_ more than he should.

His silence was making you a tad uneasy, and you couldn’t help but to overthink the word ‘boyfriend,’ and how _childish_ the word seemed. “I hate labels, but the guy was-“ you began to ramble, but he cut you off with a kiss, and turned the two of you on to your back.

“You’re fuckin’ amazing. And you’re a pretty damn good girlfriend.” Was all he said, before kissing you again; this time, coaxing your tongue out of your mouth.

Heart racing, he pulled away from your mouth and left open mouthed kisses along your jaw and collarbones, before licking a line straight down to your navel. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, you let out an exhilarated moan as he scratched his coarse stubble across your hipbones, even sneaking in some bites here and there. Hooking his arms under your knees, he gave the same treatment to your thighs, sending heat and wetness straight to your core, and the familiar flush of red to your chest and cheeks.

Without your own conscious volition, your hips had a mind of their own as they began to squirm impatiently. When they bucked slightly, Bucky was quick to press them hard in to the mattress, those lust filled eyes looking up at you with mischief deep in them.

“Gotta stop movin’ so much, doll,” He said in a low voice, kissing below your navel. “gotta tell me what you want. You always sound so fuckin’ sexy.”

Resting your knees on his shoulders, you practically _begged,_

“Fuck, please Buck… make me come.”

Kissing your tummy once more, he _finally_ licks a thick stripe down your heated center, and you nearly choke on your own moans. His nose rubbed against your sensitive clit, as he angled his head to slip his tongue inside you. It felt as if he was trying to kiss you down there, as he moved his lips and tongue softly, and you could already tell he was working you up to a fucking earth shattering orgasm.

He kept his movements slow, as he brought his lips to encircle your clit, sucking lightly and running the tip of his tongue across a spot that causes your body to jerk up, and grip his hair tight. That only encouraged him to use his flesh fingers to run against you, and slowly push two in. Languidly, he pushed them in and out, still working your clit — causing your stomach to feel the all too familiar sensation of butterflies encases you. You simultaneously try to pull him close and pull him back, wanting him to just _fuck_ you, but when his fingers and tongue just work together to hit that sensitive spot, you let out a high gasp as your orgasm washed over you. It was _white_ and _hot_ and _tingly_ _and_ you’re embarrassingly out of breath, by the time he kisses back up your stomach, landing a messy kiss to your lips.

You let out an exasperated laugh, and grip his shoulders tight.

“Your turn, soldier.” You pant out, flipping the two of you over, earning a chuckle from Bucky. 

* * *

You’re glad that Daniel didn’t really care whether or not you wore scarves, because it had been slowly becoming part of your everyday uniform.

“Girl, I wasn’t born yesterday. You’ve been wearing those scarves _a lot_ lately. Who is he?” Olivia badgered, with a mischievous grin, as she plopped a chip in to her mouth.

“None of your business, that’s who.” You retorted, throwing a grape at her.

Laughing, she leaned over, and tugged your scarf down, as you tried to push her back. Her jaw dropped when she got a peek at the hickeys on your neck.

“Okay, now you _have_ to show me the guy who can do _that!”_ She exclaimed.

Blushing, you just waved your hand, and quickly changed the subject.

“One day, maybe. How about you, still with that douchebag?”

Olivia just sighed, and replied,

“Of course not. He was a lying jerk and I know I could do better.”

High giving her, you winked, and said,

“Girl power!”

Laughing, the two of you stood up, and made your way back in to the Cap exhibit, talking about some potential men Olivia could date.

“I don’t know if you’ve seen him, but there’s a guy that’s been hanging around this exhibit lately. His name is Brock and he’s got a jawline _for days.”_ She explained, waving a hand, pretending to cool herself down. At that, your heart skipped a beat.

“I met him, once. Olive, he seems weird. He made me kind of uneasy.” You explained, as she raised her brow.

“How so? If you say it was his face, I swear to god-“ She started off defensively, before you cut her off.

“God, no, Olivia! I’m not a horrible person!” You explained. “It’s just — I care a lot about you, and he seems just… _dangerous.”_

“Hey, I said the same thing about James, but that didn’t stop you!” She argued back, crossing her arms.

She got you, there.

“Just remember what you said to me, at least. Be careful.” You begged.

She sighed, and pulled you in to a hug.

“I promise, peanut.” Pulling away, her face lit up. Looking behind your shoulder, _he_ was there, sunglasses on top of his head.

Straightening out her hair, Olivia asked,

“How do I look?”

You gave her a weak smile, and replied,

“Like a sexy flight attendant.”

She just rolled her eyes and smacked your arm playfully, before she walked over to Brock.

As they talked, you kept eyes on them, just in case he decided to do anything unwanted. But he never did, the only thing that made you uncomfortable was the way his gaze would flicker up to _you_. _There’s just something off about him._

After about twenty minutes, Olivia came back, with her arms crossed and a disappointed look painted on her normally bubbly face.

“You okay?”You asked with concern.

“Yeah — yeah.” She replied, rustling through papers on the podium.

You put a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to you.

“C’mon Olivia, I know you’re lying.” You pressed on, as she sighed.

“Fine,” she started. “he seemed really in to it for the first couple minutes, but then he kept asking about _you!”_

Your palms grew sweaty, as you furrowed your brows.

“What was he asking?” You tentatively questioned, not knowing if you _wanted_ to know.

“Like if you were dating anyone, and what time your shift ended!”

“And did you tell him?”

“Well, yeah. I got embarrassed and wanted to leave as quick as possible.” She answered, wiping an embarrassed tear off her cheek. “Are you mad?”

You couldn’t find it in yourself to be mad at her. You loved Olivia and knew how it felt to have people use you to get to your friends. The only person you were mad at was _Brock Whatever._ He was creepy and had no lead Olivia on like that.

“Of course not. Besides, he would never even have a chance with me, and you can do _way_ better than some 50 something.” You consoled, giving her an encouraging smile. “And if he tries to lay a finger on either one of us, I’ll kick his ass.”

At that, she laughed, and gave you a hug.

“You’re really the best.” Olivia stated.

“I’m always going to be here, for you Olive. Now lets get this paperwork to Daniel, yeah?” You smiled, beginning to walk towards Daniels office.

* * *

Brock Rumlow knew how to get what he wanted. And nothing could stop him once he knew what he wanted.

What he wanted, was his asset back.

Winter was his best weapon. And he wouldn’t let some _woman_ take away his weapon. Let alone one that looked like she couldn’t fight off a fucking dog.

After the Triskelion, Steve Rogers _and_ Winter left him nearly dead in a hospital, his face marred. It took weeks of recovery, and weeks eating out of a tube.

When he was discharged, Rumlow got himself a new uniform and new mask, and a new team.

A strong, competent team that was able to find out Winter was still hanging around D.C.

More specifically, the Smithsonian.

It didn’t take long to also figure out he had taken housing from the girl with a bright smile and bright future.

Rumlow almost pitied the girl. Oh, the places she could’ve gone, if Winter never came in to her life.

He had decided to take on the mission from here. He was so close to having his weapon back, and he didn’t trust anyone but himself to get them past the girl.

The girl — Olivia — told him that the girl was staying late tonight, to help put up some shit he didn’t know about or care about. All he knew was that she was going to be alone. And then, once he was done with Winter’s little plaything, he was going to have his weapon back.

So when the clock struck 11 o’clock, Rumlow grinned to himself — when he saw _her_ walking to her car, with her phone against her ear and shoulder, digging to find her keys. He made out the words, _I missed you today,_ and _I’ll be home in ten._ She threw her phone in her bag, and that’s when Rumlow stalked quietly over to her.

Before she could open her car, Rumlow threw his forearm over her head, and pressed it hard against her throat. She nearly fell against his back, gripping his arms hard — nails digging in to his leather jacket. She tried and tried to make out words, but the only one she could get out was _no,_ before she went slack against his chest.

Still holding her to his chest, he got her keys out and opened up the back door, and threw her limp body in. Getting in to the drivers seat, he readjusted the rearview mirror to see her body in the backseat.

“If only he didn’t get close to you.” He stated, before driving off in to the dead of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't hate me
> 
> talk to me!
> 
> tumblr: sgntsbarnes


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning; brief mention of torture, bucky being stressed, and brock rumlow being an asshole

The piercing white light was what woke you up. Taking in a sharp breath of air, you instinctively move your arms — only to found them restrained in leather bindings. At this point, your skin was becoming damp with sweat, and scared tears flowing down your cheeks. Looking down, there was a matching leather strap latched tight around your middle. To your side, was what appeared to be some broken medical tech — the kind you see that shows heart rate and blood pressure. Above the chair that you were strapped to, was a metal sphere like machine — with helmet like headgear attached to it.

The walls, was what threw you off. It looked like you were in a _bank vault._ There were hundreds of little drawers, some open, and some closed. Directly in front of you, was a table — full of ammo, several guns, and pocket knives.

Arching your back off of the chair, you attempted to let out a scream for help, but your voice cracked. And _that’s_ when you remember.

The leather jacket, the smell of strong cologne.

Someone had choked you out cold, and _kidnapped_ you.

It could’ve been hours, since you were taken. Hell, it could’ve been _days._

_Bucky!_

And at the thought of Bucky — all you could do is _cry._

You so desperately wanted to call out his name, as if by some miracle he could hear you. But no matter how hard you tried, only choked out gasps came out. Shutting your eyes, the adrenaline pumping through your veins mixed with your emotions, caused your chest to heave up and down.

The eerie noise of the metal gate being opened caused you to snap your eyes open — only to be met by the man who had taken you.

The marred face of Brock Rumlow looked down at you, with a downright _smug_ look on his goddamn face.

“Finally, you’re awake. Took you fuckin’ long enough.” He stated, stalking towards you with his fists clenched. “For a while, I thought you wouldn’t make it. No offense, but you seem like the sensitive type.”

Kneeling down in front of you, he tilted his head to the side, looking up at you with a curious gaze. You turned your head to the side and shut your eyes — willing yourself to wake up from this nightmare. Scoffing, Rumlow sat up and roughly took your chin his hand, shaking your face to look up at him.

“Sweetheart, being difficult isn’t going to do you much good, I hope you know that.” He calmly said. “Now, I’m going to give you some water, and five minutes to get your voice workin’ again. Then, we’re gonna have a little chat.”

Releasing his tight grip, he shuffled away to the side and returned with a water bottle. Tilting your head backwards, he forced your jaw open once more, and dumped the water in your mouth. Gulping down what you could, you coughed up the rest, the excess water running down your neck. He threw your head back, thumping on the chairs headrest. Shutting your eyes, you could hear the faint footsteps and the metal gate opening, and you couldn’t help but think back to your Bucky, and how much you wanted to be in his safe arms.

* * *

You had called earlier and told Bucky you’d be staying late, and would be home around 11:10.

But here it was, well past 11:30 — and Bucky couldn’t help the nervous pacing around your home. It wasn’t like you to be late, you were always punctual and if you were to be late, you for sure would have let him known. He knew you a grown woman, and could handle yourself — but he couldn’t stop the voices in his head; screaming at him that something wasn’t right. That you were _hurt._

Kicking the trash can, Bucky tangled his fingers in his hair and dropped himself on to the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees. Bucky shut his eyes, and took deep breaths. The first time you witnessed him get worked up to the point of a panic attack, you sat behind him on the bed and ordered him to close his eyes and take deep breaths. Bucky remembered the feeling of your thumbs pressing in to his shoulder blades, softly working out the kinks in his back. You hummed one of his favorite songs, until he calmed down. Ever since then, he’d handle his panic attacks the way you instructed.

He sat on the couch for a good five minutes, clearing his head so he could let rational thoughts overtake the nervous ones.

 _It’s not good to make rash decisions while you’re having a panic attack,_ He heard your voice in his head say. _You’re smart and strong, Buck. Don’t let your anger take over your actions._

When he finally felt his heartbeat slow, and thoughts clear up — he remembered that you always left emergency numbers on the fridge, if he needed to be able to get ahold of you. Jumping up, he stalked in to the kitchen, and grabbed the list, and saw the names and numbers. The only name he really recognized was Olivia, and the Smithsonian, which was probably closed by now. Olivia, was the only option at this point. He turned to grab the home phone with his metal hand, and almost broke it by quickly typing in her number.

It rang twice, before a tired voice whined,

“ _You told me you wouldn’t need me tonight!_ ”

“Ahem,” He cleared his throat. “Hi, it’s… it’s Jimmy. I was just calling to ask—“

“ _Are you the guy that gave her those impressive hickeys?!_ ” Olivia practically yelled with glee, seemingly not tired anymore.

“I, um. Never mind that,” he stuttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m just calling to ask if you’ve heard anything from her. She said she was supposed to be home over 45 minutes ago, and I haven’t heard from her since then.”

“ _I’m sorry Jimmy, I haven’t. She might’ve had to finish some paperwork, or something. She can get in a work mode sometimes.”_

Huffing, the panic once again started bubbling in his chest.

“Okay, thanks. Sorry for callin’ so late.” Bucky sighed, hanging up the phone before Olivia could ask anymore questions.

Bucky knew she wouldn’t stay later without telling him. She just _wouldn’t._

Grabbing his jacket off of the back of the armchair, Bucky threw it on and made way for the hallway closet, where he had thrown some of his old pocket knives in a bag, along with his glock. Throwing the bag over his shoulder, Bucky strode outside, to make way to the Smithsonian — the last place she was.

Because it was so late, the only people that were roaming the sidewalks were some homeless people. Bucky recognized some of them, and gave them a quick nod, not letting any distraction get in the way of his mission. His long strides were disrupted, when he felt a hand go to his shoulder from behind.

Bucky insticively grabbed the hand with his metal one, and practically hauled the unknown person to the front of him and up against a brick wall. His metal hand closed around the persons throat, and pushed upwards — so that the persons shoes were barely grazing the sidewalk.

“ _Who sent you?!”_ Bucky practically growled, as the person latched their hands around his wrist, unable to speak. Loosening his grip slightly, Bucky still kept his hand around the persons throat, as they caught their breath. The person who had touched him was a boy, who barely looked like he was twenty. He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was long. His clothes, indicated he was homeless.

“Fuck — no one did, man! I swear!” The boy whimpered. “Look man, I don’t know if you remember. But you told those two punks to quit kicking me around, a couple weeks ago.”

Instantly, Bucky released the boy from his grip, and took a step back. That was the night he got practically shanked.

“I recognized you, and I wanted to say thanks.” He added, rubbing at his throat. Bucky felt a pang of guilt in his gut, he didn’t mean to hurt the kid.

“You’re welcome, kid. Listen, I’d love to stay and chat, but I gotta find someone. Take care of yourself, alright?” Bucky said, turning his back to walk away.

“Is it that girl?”

At that, Bucky’s heart stopped.

“What do you know?” It came out more as a command rather than a question, but tonight wasn’t a night to care. All that mattered was finding _her._

The boy raised his hands in innocence, and replied,

“I saw you hanging around with her a lot.”

Bucky took a step towards him, and towered over him.

“Answer the damn question, kid.”

The boy took a deep breath, and continued.

“I was setting up a sleeping bag at the park next to the parking lot of the Smithsonian. I heard some trees rustling, but figured it was just a rabbit or somethin’. But when I turned around, I saw a man throw her body in to a car and drive off. Didn’t get a good look at the guy.”

The boy nearly got the wind knocked out of him, as Bucky shoved him against the brick wall.

“And you didn’t think to call the cops?!” Bucky spat, red flooding his mind.

The boy sniffed as tears began to well in his eyes.

“I really wanted to, man! I just… I just don’t have a phone or change! I would’ve if I could!”

“Goddammit!” Bucky practically shouted, punching the brick wall beside the boys head. The boy flinched, as Bucky backed off and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“Look kid, get out of here. Things are more than likely to get messy in the area. Get out of here, find some shelter to stay in.” Bucky ordered, digging out some cash from his wallet. Handing some cash to the boy, the boy looked like he was going to cry even harder at Buckys sign of selflessness.

“I… I don’t know what to say. Thank you.” He mumbled out, as Bucky tentatively laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Get outta here, kid.”

He didn’t have to tell him twice. The boy gave him a weak smile, and headed off in to the night.

As Bucky stalked towards the Smithsonian, millions of thoughts were racing about his mind. The kid had said it was a man, and that he hadn’t gotten a good look at him. It was incredibly vague, but it was the only information he had to work with here. What Bucky really wanted to do — was go in to Soldier mode, and kill any living thing that got in the way of his mission. In fact, he was holding himself back from doing _just that._ He knew that he didn’t do that anymore — and he sure as hell didn’t want to scare you even _more_ than you probably were at the moment.

Turning the last corner, Bucky threw his hood over his head and walked straight in to the parking lot. What immediately caught his attention, was the skid marks that looked fresh, tracked over your usual parking spot. Squatting, he let his flesh hand drag themselves over the tire marks. They belonged to your Honda.

Standing up, he surveyed the area once more, looking for anymore signs of you or the man. Walking towards the back, gentle memories flushed over him of your second meeting with him.

_He was just so goddamn hungry, and he didn’t want to steal any food. A couple hours before, he had seen some man throw his half eaten burger in the garbage before walking through the back. He might’ve been a super soldier, but hunger was something he just couldn’t ignore._

_So that’s how he ended up hunched over the can, ready to reach in and fucking devour the rest of that burger. Just as he was about to grab it, the sound of heels clicking made him freeze, and retract his hand. When he looked up, it was the pretty girl from his exhibit. They held eye contact for a moment, before she dug around in her bag while walking towards him. When she finally reached him, she handed him a sandwich and chips with a smile. And fuck, Bucky asked God later that night if she was one of his angels._

Slipping out of the memory, Bucky almost let a smile creep on to his lips — but the little square paper taped to the trash can, caught him off guard. Picking it up, Bucky opened up the folded paper.

And what was written on it, nearly made him vomit.

 

_Come and get her, Winter._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> three more chapters!!!!!!
> 
> tumblr: sgntsbarnes


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning; torture, blood, character death, copious amounts of angst, tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my first time writing action - please be kind! also, i wrote a huge part of this at three am while i was sick, so sorry if there are any mistakes.

The bitter and metallic taste of your own blood trickled down from your face, and in to your mouth as Rumlow gripped your hair from behind, knife slicing through your cheek. You cried out in pain, eyes skewing shut. Tears flowed out of your eyes, causing the open wound to burn even _more._ Throwing your head forward, you let out a hard sob, before Rumlow stalked in front of you. He just let out a ‘tsk’ sound, and ran a hand through his hair.

“I told you, if you talk, I won’t hurt you.” He stated, as he squatted down in front of you. “C’mon, sweetheart. I just need you to tell me if you and Barnes are… involved.”

Gritting your teeth, you raised your head to meet his eyes.

“ _Fuck you.”_ You spat.

Rum low just dropped his head, as he stood back up.

“Looks like we’ll have to do this the hard way.”

And with that, his fist collided with your cheek, causing your head to jerk sideways. You swore you head a bone crunch.

He didn’t stop, at that. Rumlow punched you a couple more times, before landing one last hard punch on your stomach.

Feeling lightheaded, you tipped your head back and told yourself to keep your eyes _open_.

“Now, sweetheart, tell me. What makes _you,_ so goddamn _special?”_ He shouted, yanking a knife off the table. It was a blur, as he swung the knife across your other cheek, and used his other hand to hold your jaw. Tilting your face sideways, a sly look grew on his face, as his eyes dropped to your neck. Letting out a short, cold laugh, Rumlow let the knife trail down to your neck.

“Figures. You’re just his little fuck buddy, aren’t ya?” He taunted, letting the knife trail down to your collarbones. “Nothin’ but a little _whore_ for him.” Putting more pressure on the knife, you shriek as it sliced in to your chest.

“All ya’ gotta do, sweetheart, is tell me if Barnes remembers.” He demanded. _He wants to know, if Bucky remembers his past._ Connecting two and two, you feel hope drain out of you. _He wants to know, if Bucky remembers his past. Rumlow wants the Winter Soldier back._

“ Tell me what you know and the pain will stop, I promise _.”_ He said it, as if it was a promise he would actually keep.

Spitting some blood out of your mouth, you rested your head on the headrest of the chair. The pain was starting to mix with adrenalin and sleepiness, and your head felt light. So letting out a bitter laugh, you kept your gaze on him and said,

“I know that you’re a piece of _shit,_ and once Bucky finds us, you’re going to die.”

You promptly gave in to sleep, when his fist collided with your face once more.

* * *

 It felt as if a giant hole had been punched through Buckys heart. He felt the edges of his vision become blurred, as he stumbled backwards in to the cold brick wall. The writing, was the same writing he had grown used to when he was the Assassin. It was the writing that all of his targets case files were written in. It was the writing, that he has been burned in to his mind.

_Rumlow_.

Rumlow had _you._ He was fucking using you as bait, to get to _him._

Bucky let out a choked sob, as he turned around and punched the brick wall. All he could see was _red,_ as both of his fists kept assaulting the wall. He didn’t even stop when blood began to flow out of his flesh hand. It felt as if time was slowing, as images of _you_ flooded his mind.

 

_You were laying with your bare back to him, sheets carelessly draped over your naked body. You looked practically ethereal, as the glow from the sunrise lit up the room. He trailed his fingers along your form, causing you to shift and face him, a tired smile gracing your lips. You leaned forward to catch his lips with your own, giving him a sweet kiss. He realizes that you’re the only person he’d ever imagined a future with._

 

_Bucky let his arm lounge on your shoulder, as the two of you strolled through the park next to the Smithsonian. You were making little comments about the people and families surrounding the two of you, making up stories about their lives. Bucky would laugh and join in sometimes, but mostly, he just liked the sound of your voice._ _Bucky would sit back on a bench as he watched you get up and pet some dogs, and would let a smile play upon his lips. Seeing your laugh and smile could light up the world. He wondered how it was, that he got to see that everyday._

 

_He had you pinned under his own body, hips hitting yours. Your eyes were skewed shut, nails gripping in to Buckys back. You slid them up and down, causing red marks to be trailed along his back. His jaw was clenched, as he just watched your pretty moans spill out of your mouth — as he hit the special spot inside of you._ _When you both finished, he laid his head on your chest, while you raked your fingers through his hair. You’ve never been in love before, and didn’t plan on seeking it out. But it was so easy to feel love, when you were with him._

 

Bucky fell to his knees, and tugged at his hair in anger and frustration. You didn’t deserve this! You didn’t deserve to get caught up in _his_ fucking mess! But he had to be selfish, and have _you_ to himself! And now, Rumlow had you — and it was all his fault.

The worst part was, the fact that he knew where Rumlow had you. And if it wasn’t for you — he wouldn’t go back, no. He vowed to himself he’d never go near that bank again. 

It was a place full of pain and misery and Bucky needed to search himself to find the strength to go back.

His strength was _you._

Bucky couldn’t deny that you were the single-handedly, the only person besides Steve — he felt at ease with. You were the only other person he felt mentally and physically safe with, like nothing could hurt him. You made him feel like a _normal_ person, you made him feel safe and _loved_ and you didn’t deserve to be in his mess.

So Bucky decided to pull himself together, and go get you. He could practically hear you preaching him, that he can overcome his demons. 

For once in his life — he was going in to a mission unprepared. He didn’t know how it was going to end, and that is what scared him the most. 

* * *

 The rough shake of your face woke you from your short, induced sleep. Your vision was blurred as they fluttered open, once more landing on Rumlow’s scarred face.

“Y’know, I’m over trying to fuckin’ get intel out of you.” Rumlow spat, pacing in front of you. “It’s clear that you were just his little piece to his game, that he knows he won’t win.”

“ _Why are you doing this?!”_ You yelled out, your anger boiling over. “Why can’t you just leave him alone?!”

Rumlow cocked his head to the side, as if something had struck him.

“Sweetheart, monsters don’t get a happily ever after. Especially ones that have run out of time.” As he said this, there was a look in his eye that made you want to puke, like he had come up with an idea.

“ _You_ made him a monster! He hasn’t been like this is entire life!” You spat back, trying to crane your neck to keep track of him as he circled you. “How can _you_ live with yourself? Knowing that you stripped someone of their entire life?”

Rumlow replied with a bitter laugh, and said,

“Trust me, I can live with myself.”

Before you could retort, the sudden sound of the machinery around you roared to life. Looking up, the metal headgear had started making noises, sparking to life. The restraints on your arms grew tighter, as Rumlow forced the chair backwards. He leaned down in to your ear, and said with an eerie softness,

“Y’know — I wonder how Winter would feel, when he came — to find his _girlfriend_ nearly dead, with no reconciliation of her life.” 

Instinctively, your body jerked forward, only to have his burly hand slam you back down to the seat. It felt as if the air had been sucked out of your body, and the walls were caving in. The fear that coursed through your body was inhumane, and at this point — what _could_ you do?

“P-Please… J-Just…” You gasped, not being able to form coherent sentences.

“You know how many times Barnes remembered? How many times he begged, like you’re doing now?” Rumlow replied. 

All you could do was cry and clench your fists, as Rumlow tortured you with images of Bucky, in that chair. You were going to be wiped, and left for dead. And there was nothing you could do about it.

Rumlow grabbed some rubber mouth piece, and shoved it in your mouth.

“This might hurt a little.” He said, with a malicious smile. 

Before Rumlow could start lowering the helmet, several loud bangs made him stop in his tracks. Walking in front of you slowly, he pulled his gun out of its holster and gripped it, with a smirk.

“He’s here.” Was all he said, before the sound of a gunshot hit the metal gate — right on the lock. It was a blur, as the glint of a metal hand ripped the gate open, and Rumlow dashed to the panel of switches for the machine.

Bucky stood with a gun in his hand, and an absolute _feral_ look in his eyes. He looked ragged and animalistic, as he kept his dark look on Rumlow. You could tell, he was fighting the soldier in him. Bucky let his gaze flicker towards you for a mere second, before returning it to his target. At this point, you were surprised that hadn’t had an heart attack yet. 

“Winter!” Rumlow broke the silence, with a fake giddy smile. “So glad you came. You were just about to miss the best part.”

“You’re going to step away from that machine, before I put a _fuckin_ ’ bullet in your head.” Bucky replied, grip tightening around the handle. “You’re going to get her outta that chair, and let her go. This is between you’n’me. Not her.”

The venom laced in his voice was something that you’d never witnessed before. It _was_ scary, and you hoped to god Rumlow would listen. But you knew better, than to hope for the best case scenario.

Rumlow just stalked towards Bucky, to the point where the gun was inches from his face.

“What are you so _scared_ of? Scared of lettin’ her see the killer in you?” Rumlow taunted.

Buckys jaw tightened, at Rumlow’s words. And when Rumlow gave Bucky that shit eating grin, he felt himself slip.

Bucky smashed the head of the gun in to Rumlow’s face, and kicked him in the gut. Three shots from Buckys gun fired towards Rumlow, in which Rumlow swiftly dodged. Rumlow charged towards Bucky, expertly landing a right hook to Buckys jaw. It didn’t even seem to phase him, as Bucky returned the favor. The scene before you had you in hysterics, trying to compose yourself whilst trying to look for a way out of the seat. 

As Rumlow kicked Buckys gun out of his hand, Rumlow quickly whips out an electric baton from another one of his holsters — and turns it on. He jams it in to Buckys abdomen, and the pained out scream that Bucky lets out was bound to haunt you. Bucky keeled on to his knees, as Rumlow gave him a knee to the chin — before letting off, and running to the panel.

“BUCKY!” You cried out, as Bucky tried to regain his composure.

“Oh shut the hell up,” Rumlow gasped out, as he slammed the on switch.

The headgear lowered down to your head, as you screamed out for Bucky. Your screams for Bucky were replaced with screams of pain — as the electrical shock began to start the memory wipe. 

It had to have been five seconds, before Bucky body slammed Rumlow in to the wall, and delivered several kicks to the gut with his metal hand. Bucky flipped a pocket knife out of his jacket, and jammed it in to Rumlows side, causing Rumlow to let out a pained yell. Dropping Rumlow to the floor, Bucky retreated to the panel — and hit the off button. The metal headgear retracted, leaving you glistening with sweat and gasping for air.

Using his metal hand, his arm whirred as he easily ripped off the restraints. He cupped your face and tugged your hair out of your eyes, panic strewn on his face.

“Baby, baby wake up!” He pleaded, as you felt your vision turning blurry. “You gotta get outta here. You gotta run —“

He was cut off by Rumlow, pulling him backwards hard. Bucky whipped around and fought back. You felt as if you weren’t in your body, but watching from above. The electrical shock had made your body weak, and your mind foggy. All you could do was _watch_ as Rumlow beat Bucky — and how Bucky would look back at you with pain and fear laced in his eyes.

Rumlow had somehow managed to tackle Bucky to the ground, and cock his gun. He aimed it at Buckys forehead, and Bucky just laid there — like hope was running out. You were screaming at yourself to _do something._ You would rather die than watch Bucky get tortured by that sadist. So you turned your head, locking your on to the table, full of Rumlows weapons. Gathering up what little strength you had left, you leaned over and grabbed a gun. 

“Y’know Barnes — if it will make you feel better, your little pet over there, would make an _excellent_ asset.” Rumlow spat. “The _fun_ I could have with the two of you — you would be HYDRAs favorite weapons.” Bucky flickered his eyes towards you, and back to Rumlow. It was the silent encouragement you needed, to cock the gun, and press it against Rumlows back.

“Think again, asshole.” You said, before pulling the trigger.

In an instant, Rumlow dropped to his knees. Holding his stomach, he fell to the floor — blood dripping out of his mouth, as well. Bucky darted up quickly, and looked down at his ex-handler. He would be lying if he said he wish he did it the right way, by giving him to SHIELD.

Rumlow, with hooded eyes, tried to say something — but before he could make out any words, his head hit the floor with a ‘thump,’ and his eyes closed. 

Dropping the gun, the reality of what you just did hit you. Covering your mouth with your hand, you let out a choked sob. Bucky immediately stood in front of you, covering your sight from Rumlow. Grasping your shoulders, he pressed you in to his chest, wrapping his arms around you as you sobbed hard in to his shirt.

“I killed him, Bucky!” You sobbed, letting your weight fall on to him. “Oh my god, I fucking _killed_ him!”

“Shh, shh,” Bucky cooed, stroking your hair. There was really nothing he could say, or do — to make this situation any better. Yes, he had felt a sense of relief when you shot Rumlow, but he can’t stand the fact that you’re never going to forgive yourself for this.

“Baby, it’s over. It’s over. Shhh.” He continued, as you held on to him like he was your anchor to reality.

Looking up at him with red eyes, you whimpered,

“Everything hurts, Bucky. I… I’m so tired. S’tired.” 

Cupping your cheek, blood smeared on to your cheek and on to Buckys hand. He looked at it with horror, as he realized how much pain you were probably in. Trying to pick you up bridal style, he said,

“We gotta get you to a hospital -“

“No, no,” You cut him off, batting away his hands with little exertion. “Call the police, and get out of here.”

“Are you serious? No, you need—“

“If they find out you were here, they’ll think you did this. Please, just — just lay me down, and get out of here!”

Bucky bit his lower lip, and cradled your face in his hands. He didn’t deserve you. Here you were, in excruciating pain, worrying about _him._

“Please, sweetheart. Please.” You begged, gripping his shirt so hard, your knuckles turned white.

And with that, his lips collided with yours, almost painfully so. The kiss was desperate and messy and it had you whimpering in to his mouth. The both of you didn’t acknowledge the fact that this might be the last time you get to kiss each other. Pulling away was almost a chore, as he leaned his forehead against yours. His breath was hot against yours, as a tear slid down his cheek.

“Ok.”

With that, he laid you down gently to the floor, facing away from Rumlow. He could tell you most likely had a couple broken ribs, and scars were going to be left on your body. You winced as he laid you down, gripping with all your strength to his bicep. Kneeling down, he raked the hair out of your face, and looked at the mess _he_ had made. 

“Don’t,” you whispered, as if you could read his thoughts. “Don’t blame this on yourself. You’re a _good_ _man_ , James.” You smiled lightly, eyes beginning to droop.

“I’ll see you as soon as I can. That’s a promise, honey.” He replied, as you carefully brought a hand to wipe at his cheek.

“See you on the other side, sweetheart.” You whispered, before finally giving in to sleep.

And as hard as it was to watch you in this amount of pain, Bucky stepped over Rumlows body, and took one last look at you. He couldn’t help but feel the guilt spreading through his veins like a fucking disease. Tearing his gaze away from you, Bucky ran as fast as he could out of the bank. 

He ran and ran until he was back at your house, calling 911.

“There’s been an attack in the D.C. Trust Bank. Get there as quick as you can, and notify SHIELD. They’re going to want to know about this.” He instructed, before promptly hanging up.

Bucky quickly gathered his things that were strewn across the apartment, and shoved them in a duffel bag. He was going to have to lay low for at least a couple weeks. There was no doubt, that they were going to grill you about him. Knowing you, you were going to tell the truth. There wasn’t a part of him, that was angry at that fact. He’d been running from his past ever since the Triskelion. Maybe, it was about time he faced the truth. The fact that Steve Rogers was looking for him, the fact that he once was a war hero. 

Throwing the duffel bag over his shoulder, he flicked the lights off. Before he reached the door, he stopped. Walking in to the kitchen, he looked at the little polaroid taped on to the fridge. It was a picture of the two of you, taken after a rendezvous. You were kissing his cheek, arm over his chest. Bucky was making fun of your constant ‘duck faces,’ with his arm tucked beneath your head. Sniffling, he took it off the fridge, and placed in carefully in his wallet. 

Taking one final look at the place he called ‘home,’ Bucky walked out of the building — with the feelings of anger, sadness, and relief mixed in his bloodstream. He couldn’t help but feel like a part of his heart was missing.

* * *

The moment you woke up, there were a myriad of men in suits and nurses surrounding you. A man named Phil Coulson, greeted you with a soft smile and

let you know, that you weren’t going to be in any trouble. From there, you were questioned all about Bucky while Nurses whizzed around you, tending to your wounds. Rumlow had left you with two broken ribs, two black eyes, and a broken cheekbone. You told Agent Coulson nearly everything — excluding details about the romantic encounters. He listened carefully and took notes, never once interrupting your answers. After you were done being questioned, Agent Coulson thanked you for cooperation.

“Miss, until this case has been fully investigated, we would like if you could get out of D.C. SHIELD is more than willing to pay for an extended vacation.” Agent Coulson, explained.

“My family lives in New Jersey, I can stay with them.” You replied, with a wave of your hand. Agent Coulson stood up, and straightened his jacket.

“Again, thank you for your cooperation. And Captain Rogers sends his thanks, as well. Feel better soon, Miss.”

* * *

 

After two weeks in the hospital, the doctors gave you the OK to travel to New Jersey. Your sister, Ella, had driven up to stay with you at the hospital. She practically begged to get details, but you lied and said you signed a contract with SHIELD. It was better than the truth. She would murder you, if she knew the truth. 

Arriving to your apartment, you winced as you tried to get out. Ella was quick to try and help, but you denied. 

“I just need to shove some clothes in to a bag, Ell. Plus, I’ve been surrounded by Feds and Nurses for the past two weeks. Fifteen minutes, that’s all I’m asking for.” You said, finally pulling yourself out of the car.

“Fine — but if you’re more than fifteen, I’m coming up there. You’re not dying on my watch.” Ella laughed, worry still etched on her face. Rolling your eyes, you got in to the building and took the elevator to your floor.

Unlocking the door, you sighed. The apartment was an absolute mess. SHIELD must’ve searched your apartment — for everything was strewn about, drawers opened, you name it. You’d at least think they’d clean up their mess.

“I can’t deal with this right now.” You sighed to yourself, as you made your way to your room.

But you stopped dead in your tracks, when a knock on your glass window sounded through the apartment. Turning back in to the living room, your jaw dropped. Bucky was standing outside, on the fire escape — looking like hell.

“Oh my god!” You nearly yelped, jogging as fast as you could to the window. Throwing open the window, you stood face to face to Bucky. Grabbing his arm, you helped him in to the apartment.

“Sorry I didn’t use the front door, I remembered your sisters face.” He muttered, turning to close the window.

“No, no. Don’t apologize, it’s fine.” You assured him, as he turned back to face you. Like when you first met, his beard was thick and dark circles were prominent under his eyes. 

You didn’t stop yourself from launching in to his chest, burying your face in his neck.

“God, I fucking missed you.” You said, wrapping your arms around his chest, as he did the same.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come see you earlier. It was too risky.” 

Pulling back, Bucky looked down at you, in which you gave him a watery smile — that broke his heart.

“I know, I didn’t expect you to come while I was in the hospital.” You replied, letting your fingers lace themselves with his.

The two of you just stood in silence, seemingly taking in the moment. It wasn’t until you broke the silence, saying,

“I’m going back to New Jersey for a while. That’s why my sister’s out there. Ya know, you should consider traveling down there—”

He cut you off by saying,

“Honey, you know I can’t do that.”

You furrowed your brow, and replied,

“Well, it doesn’t have to be soon. It can be in a few months. I just want to be able to see—“

“Baby girl, we can’t keep doing this.” He replied, as hard as it was to say those words.

You weren’t stupid. You knew what he was saying, but you just _didn’t_ want to believe it.

“What do you mean?” You asked, feeling tears already to well in your eyes.

“ _What do I mean?_ Baby girl, look at yourself!” He exclaimed, letting his fingertips run over the bandage on your cheek. “You nearly _died,_ because of me!” 

Sniffling, you replied,

“That wasn’t you! It was Rumlow, it wasn’t you, Bucky!”

“‘ _Wasn’t me?’_ Of course it was! If I never came in to your life, you would have never been hurt!”

At his words, all you could do was cry. The selfishness in you wanted to keep him all to yourself, despite everything.

“I’m a dead man walking, baby girl.” He stated, wiping the tears off your cheeks. 

“B-Bucky… _I love you._ God, I love you so much.” The moment those three words slipped out of your mouth, Buckys heart broke. Huffing out a sigh, he tried his best not to let tears slip out of his own eyes.

“Don’t make this harder for me than it already is,” He whispered. “ _Fuck,_ baby girl — I’ve known I’ve loved you from the moment I kissed you. I love you, I love you _so_ much sweetheart.”

Letting out a sob, you grasped the nape of his neck and pulled him down to your lips. The kiss was fiery and passionate and messy, as your noses bumped together and teeth clacked. 

“Please don’t leave me,” You said against his mouth. “ _Please.”_

It took all of his might to pull away from you, gripping your shoulders. Those big blue eyes of his, held so much sadness. The two of you both knew, how this was going to turn out — despite the way your hearts felt.

He pressed one last chaste kiss to your lips, whispering _I’m sorry._ You felt like a child — helpless — watching him leave out the window.

Like a ghost, he was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yell at me on tumblr; @sgntsbarnes


	11. Epilogue / Alternate Ending

**Five months later**

 

Doll,

I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from. If I were you, I would just take this letter and throw it in the fucking trash. But that’s besides the point.

You’ve probably seen me on the news, with Steve — and the rest of the team. Let me tell you, those few weeks weren’t pretty. Everything went to shit, to be quiet frank. Things have gotten better, though. Stark is pretty weary about me still, but we’re making loads of progress. Steve and I like to talk about the good old days, like the old men we are. And Sam — he’s such a great guy. One of the toughest people I know. I don’t really understand my relationship with Natasha yet, but we keep each other company, when nightmares get to us. Even got my hair cut. Jesus, I really look a fucking boy scout.

I guess I’m writing to you because I know you probably worried yourself sick, over this whole, I dunno, civil war. I’m also writing to you, to let you know that I really did love you. Hell, I still love you. Don’t think I’ll love anyone else as much as I love you.

As much as I’d like to come back and see you, I just can’t. I know you’ll protest to this — but I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for letting you get hurt. I was selfish and didn’t think about the consequences.

Baby girl, I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for leaving, and I’m sorry for getting you hurt, and I’m sorry for writing to you now, probably interrupting your life. I want you to move on with your life — continue your education, like you told me you wanted to. Go visit Paris with your sister, go live your life. Meet a guy that can give you more than I ever would have been able to. Just don’t let me get in the way. You deserve the world.

All of my love,

James

 

Bucky,

You were the single handedly, the best thing that ever happened in my life. I don’t doubt that for a second. Even with what happened with Rumlow, you impacted my life in a way words cannot describe.

And you were right — when I saw you on the news, I admittedly lost a lot of sleep. I was completely shitty, not knowing if you were okay. Probably the worst couple weeks of my life, to be quiet honest.

I’m very glad to hear that you’re doing well. And I’ve seen some pictures of you on the internet with your new hair — it suits you very well! God, I promised myself I wouldn’t cry while writing this, so sorry about the smudged ink.

I love you, Bucky. And I’ll always love you. You’ve showed me what raw bravery and raw love looks like, and that’s something that’s worth more than anything in the world. As much as I hate to admit this, I’ve been coming to terms with the reality of our relationship, and our situation. You’re right. We just _can’t._ But I still want you to know, that you’re the first man I’ve ever loved, and there’s nothing more pure than that.

And I want you to know, that you need to learn to forgive yourself, not just for what happened to me — but for everything. You’re a good man, James. You’ve always been a good man, and you always will be. I will tell you this, until you believe it yourself.

I want the same for you, Bucky. You deserve to move on, as well. You have the freedom to do whatever you want with your life, and I want you to know that! You have Steve by your side, and I know he’ll help you on the way. If you get lost, he’ll be there. I can guarantee you he won’t leave your side.

I love you, Bucky Barnes. Never forget that.

 

Always,

Me

 

**One Year Later**

 

Doll,

So, I’m an Avenger now — I guess. I live in the Stark Tower next to Steve, and let me tell you — Stark has the most fucking advanced tech I’ve ever seen. The 21st century is weird. Steve and I train field agents, and we have loads of fun doing it too. It’s still weird seeing Stevie giving out orders. Still remember him as the scrawny kid who never knew when to stop.

I’m pretty happy with my life right now. The nightmares still come and go, but I’ve been seeing a shrink which helps a lot. Natasha gave me a dream catcher for my birthday as a joke, but I secretly like to think it works.

I’d be happier if you were in my life, though.

I hope you’re doing well, honey. You deserve it.

 

All of my love,

James

 

Bucky,

I’m so glad to hear that! And I bet living with Tony Stark is crazy. I’m so glad that you’re settling in, as an Avenger. I’m so fucking proud of you, Bucky! I’m seeing a shrink as well. It hasn’t been easy, though. My mom basically had to drag me to her, seeing as I was a hermit for two months.

I’ve taken a year off, and spending that time traveling. As much as my sister wanted to go to Paris with me, she decided to get hitched and have a baby! It’s a boy, and his name is Henry. He’s a real cutie, and loves his auntie.

I’m thinking about getting my teaching certificate, once I get back from Athens. (Attached is a picture of me, in front of Poseidon’s temple! It’s even prettier in person!) I’m finally feeling a lot better, about myself and my life. The only thing that’d make it better would be you.

Don’t be too hard on the field agents!

Always,

Me

 

**Two Years Later**

 

Bucky,

It’s official, I’m a high school history teacher! Yay! I gave them all a survey, on the first day of school — asking them which part of history they wanted to learn most. Almost half of them wanted to do a unit on Captain America and the Howling Commandos. How could I say no to that? So whaddya say, bring the team in for a special guest presentation? I’m sure you’ll have half of the girls fawning over you, maybe even a few of the boys.

I’m also seeing someone. His name is Logan and he’s head of the English department. Very cliche, I know. I feel like you would like him. He’s very nice and he has a german shepherd, who loves me as more than he loves Logan.

I have to admit — when I first met him, all I could do was compare him to you. Even though I knew that we were never — well, yeah. You get the picture. Just know that I’ll always love you, Bucky. You have a piece of my heart, whether you like it or not.

Always,

Me

 

Doll,

I always knew you’d make a great teacher! And I’ll put a word in with the rest of the team — Tony would love to come, for sure.

I’m happy for you, and Logan. He seems like a great guy. But just so you know, if he hurts you — you know where to find me. I’m sure Steve would be glad to come teach him a little lesson. (Steve is always ready to wrestle, I swear to god.)

I’ve dated a few women here, and there. I even went out with Jessica Drew — yeah, Spider-Woman. None of them really lasted, though. I still have that same problem. I would always compare them to you. It sucks.

I hope he treats you well, baby girl. You have a piece of my heart too.

 

All of my love,

James

 

**Three Years Later**

 

It was a Friday morning, when Tony passed out the mail to everyone. Bucky typically never got any letters, unless they were from you. So that’s why he was confused, as to why Tony was handing him a pale blue letter, with a silver bow on it.

“Nat, I think this one was meant for you.” Bucky said, tossing it over to her. She swiftly caught it, examining the letter.

“Nope, says James Barnes. It’s for you.” She replied, tossing it back to Bucky.

He carefully opened the letter, and what he read, made his heart sink.

Dropping the letter on to the table, he stalked off to the training room, leaving everyone puzzled.

“What’s up with Bucky?” Tony asked, breaking the awkward silence.

Steve picked up the letter, and sighed heavily as he read it.

It was your wedding invitation, courtly inviting Bucky to attend your wedding, with Logan.

* * *

On a warm, sunny June evening, Bucky and Steve dressed to the nines, and drove to the New Jersey address. The church was huge, with people dressed in fancy dresses and sharp suits. Bucky and Steve slipped off their sunglasses, and settled in to the back of the pews.

“You sure you still wanna do this?” Steve asked Bucky, as he noticed Bucky fidgeting.

“Yeah, yeah. She’s happy, Steve. I wanna be here.” He answered, recognizing your mother and father, greeting people.

Steve patted his friends shoulder, as the wedding began. Bucky recognized Olivia, as one of the bridesmaids — along with Ella. The rest, walked down with smiles plastered on their faces — flower girls following, with Henry holding the rings. Once everyone rose, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He bit his lower lip, as he saw you in your dress — it was plain, but in the most beautiful way. with a sweetheart neckline and low back, you looked like an angel. You were an angel. You held your head high, gripping your fathers arm, as you walked gracefully down the aisle to your fiancé — and it was suddenly very real to Bucky. You were getting married, to someone who wasn’t him.

Steve didn’t say a word, except for a comment about how you were beautiful. The wedding went by fast, and before he knew it — Logan had dipped you, and pressed a hard kiss on to your lips. He could see you smile in to the kiss, like you used to do when he kissed you.

As the two of you led the party down the aisle — he caught your gaze. It seemed to be in slow motion, as you bit your lower lip and smiled — a silent tear, dripping down your cheek. You gave him a little wave, as he gave you a watery smile.

He watched you get in to the vintage car with your now husband — waving to your family. You locked eyes with him one last time, before mouthing to him — _I love you._

And surprisingly, Bucky felt happy. He didn’t expect that, coming to your wedding. But knowing that you were in good hands, living your life to its fullest potential — was something he would be forever grateful for. He wouldn’t trade your happiness for the world.

* * *

Alternate Ending

 

Three years later, Bucky stood at your door with short hair, clean shaven, and clutching a bouquet of flowers. Saying he was nervous, was an understatement. He had promised Natasha a favor if she could get your Jersey address, in which she quickly obliged to. Turns out, you moved in to your own place down in Charleston, and worked at the local high school. When he found that out, Bucky was in an _annoyingly_ good mood for a couple days. He couldn’t help it — you were doing what you loved, and that made him happy.

So, he decided to take a little road trip to Jersey, stopping at a farmers market to pick up flowers. He remembered you liked Peonies.

When he arrived to your little home, it took him nearly ten minutes to get out of the car and several encouragement texts from Steve. Knocking softly on the door, his heart skipped a beat when he heard you yell, “coming!”

When the door opened, Bucky felt breathless. You were dressed in leggings and an over sized shirt, hair up in a bun, with an apron on. It took nearly a second to register that this was Bucky — short haired and clean shaven — standing at your doorstep. You didn’t even hide your shock, as Bucky cleared his throat.

“Um… Hi. I-I uh —“ Was all he could stutter out, before you launched forward, crashing your lips on to his. He dropped the flowers, hoisting you up by the thighs, immediately reciprocating the kiss. It wasn’t until he felt tears that weren’t his own, he stopped.

Your eyes were red with tears of joy, smile so wide it could cheer even the saddest person up.

“It’s about time you came home, James Buchanan Barnes.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so proud of this, because it's the very first full length fic i've finished! yay! I never expected this to be a full length fic - I began writing this as a mini series. I'm so happy you guys gave me feedback, kudos, etc!
> 
> Up next, will most likely be Loki, Poe Dameron, and then Kylo Ren!
> 
> I also started a cute little series, which can be found [here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6217555/chapters/14245387)
> 
> Follow me on tumblr, where we can yell about marvel! @sgntsbarnes
> 
> thanks for reading, cuties!
> 
> -Karley


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